THE  GIFT  OF 

MAY  TREAT  MORRISON 

IN  MEMORY  OF 

ALEXANDER  F  MORRISON 


jfftre.  barton 


THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY. 

AN  ERRANT  WOOING. 

A  BACHELOR  MAID. 

SWEET  BELLS  OUT  OF  TUNE. 

CROW'S  NEST  AND  BELHAVEN  TALES. 

GOOD  AMERICANS. 

THE  ANGLOMANIACS. 

A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SOUTH. 

FLOWER  DE  HUNDRED. 

THE  MERRY  MAID  OF  ARCADY. 

A  VIRGINIA  COUSIN  AND  BAR  HARBOR 

TALES. 
A  SON  OF  THE  OLD  DOMINION. 


THE 
CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 


BY 


MRS.  BURTON  HARRISON 


4^^l 


NEW   YORK 

THE   CENTURY   CO. 

1899 


Copyright,  1899,  by 
MRS.  BURTON  HARRISON 


THE  DEVINNE  PRESS. 


ft; 
vi 


*? 


TO 

TWO    LITTLE   MAIDS 
CONSTANCE   AND   URSULA 


428099 


PART  I 
IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 


THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

PART  I 
IN  OLD  NEW  YORK 


FTER  1787,  when  the  new  order  of  things 
national  began  to  assert  itself  in  New 
York,  the  little  city,  worn  by  armies  of 
occupation  and  ravaged  by  the  many 
fires  during  the  Revolution,  took  on  a 
new  lease  of  life. 

The  hearts  of  her  faithful  dwellers  beat  high  with 
the  sense  of  returning  prosperity.  Their  old  houses 
were  made  to  blush  in  coats  of  ruddy  paint,  their 
gardens  were  restocked  with  shrubs  and  flowers,  their 
rooms  refitted  with  foreign  furniture  and  ornaments. 
Everywhere  substantial  homes  and  tenements  sprang 
up  like  Aladdin's  palace.  The  brick  sidewalks,  that 
until  recently  had  extended  northward  no  higher  than 
St.  Paul's  Chapel  in  Broadway,  were  repaired  and 
pushed  farther,  although  they  could  not,  alas !  recall 
the  vanished  glory  of  leafage  that  had  arched  over 
them  before  so  many  of  the  shade-trees  of  these  streets 


2  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

were  cut  down  £or«f  Uel-by  "beleaguered  residents  while 
the  war  lasted., .. (i  ... 

The  th6rbu'gttfarWw.e!r.e.elea.ned  and  better  lighted ; 
trade  flourished ;  markets  and  warehouses,  late  lean  as 
Shylock's  purse,  knew  again  the  sensation  of  fullness 
to  satiety.  Every  ship  from  the  old  countries  that 
braved  the  boisterous  Atlantic  in  search  of  Manhat 
tan's  shores  arrived  laden  with  dainties  and  novelties 
for  her  shops. 

New  York  may  have  been  more  picturesque,  more 
stately,  more  literally  aristocratic  in  her  days  of 
Dutch  or  English  domination,  but  never  so  interest 
ing  as  when  the  new  wine  of  Americanism  was  thrill 
ing  in  her  veins.  She  at  once  took  the  lead,  ever 
since  maintained,  as  the  most  cosmopolitan  city  of 
the  republic. 

But  although  willing  in  some  degree  to  accept  the 
doctrines  of  republican  simplicity  since  called  Jeffer- 
sonian,  New-Yorkers  had  no  idea  of  parting  with  all 
the  habits  and  customs  acquired  from  their  sponsors 
in  an  older  civilization.  Among  the  upper  classes 
personal  luxury  was  the  rule.  Ladies  and  gentlemen 
walked  in  silk  attire,  wore  powdered  periwigs,  jeweled 
buttons,  and  ruffles  of  cobweb  lace,  drank  rare  wines, 
and  kept  a  host  of  negro  or  mulatto  servants.  When 
some  gentry  took  the  air,  it  was  in  chariots  with  lac 
quered  panels,  painted  cream  and  gold,  each  drawn  by 
four  shining  horses,  and  presided  over  by  coachmen 
such  as  nowadays  are  seen  only  at  some  great  func 
tion  of  a  European  court  or  upon  the  stage  in  a  f  airy 
pantomime.  One  trembles  at  what  the  "  society  col 
umns  "  would  have  to  say  in  derision  of  the  leading 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK        t  3 

New-Yorker  who  might  venture  in  these  times  to  go 
abroad  in  his  great-grandfather's  customary  state  ! 

Ah,  well !  There  is  hardly  a  panel  or  a  hammer- 
cloth  left  of  those  brilliant  old-time  vehicles,  and  the 
jeweled  buttons  of  their  great-grandfathers'  coats 
serve  Maud  and  Mabel  of  to-day  to  deck  their  gowns 
at  fancy  balls.  Our  leading  citizens  allow  themselves 
to  be  jammed  past  recognition  in  overcrowded  cars  of 
the  elevated  railway,  or  hang  upon  the  straps  of  agi 
tating  trolleys.  But  it  is  pleasant  to  remember  that 
these  outward  and  visible  signs  of  the  age  of  Beau 
Brocade  once  flaunted  in  the  dull  lower  streets  of  our 
island  city ;  and  to  write  of  them  brings  back  a  whole 
pageant  of  high-stepping  thoughts  and  courtly  fancies. 

The  high-water  mark  of  this  renaissance  of  Goth 
am's  fashionable  display  was  reached  when  General 
Washington  came  from  Mount  Vernon  to  accept  the 
supreme  trust  of  the  infant  nation  in  the  balcony  of 
Federal  Hall.  That  month  of  May,  1789,  after  the 
President  had  taken  up  his  residence  in  the  Franklin 
House  in  Cherry  Street,  was  a  dizzy  round  of  routs, 
balls,  dinners,  tea-drinkings,  and  card-parties.  No 
wonder  New  England  held  her  breath  in  amazement 
at  what  she  called  the  "vortex  of  folly  and  dissipa 
tion  "  in  the  giddy  metropolis  of  New  York. 

The  echoes  of  the  inauguration  ball  in  the  Assem 
bly  Rooms,  where  the  Boreel  Building  stands  in 
modern  Broadway,  had  not  yet  died  away,  but  were 
augmented  by  those  of  the  fete  given  the  week  fol 
lowing  by  M.  de-  Moustier,  the  diplomatic  represen 
tative  of  France,  who,  in  common  parlance,  was  called 
the  French  "Ambassador." 


4  THE  CIKCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

When  two  women  put  their  heads  together  to  talk 
about "  the  General "  leading  out  that  lucky  Mrs.  Max 
well  for  the  minuet,  and  one  asked  the  other  if  she 
had  secured  one  of  those  lovely  fans  distributed  at  the 
Assembly  Rooms,  somebody  was  sure  to  interrupt 
with  the  enchanting  decorations  of  De  Moustier's 
house,  and  the  buffet  supper  there. 

Enough  could  not  be  said  of  the  clever  surprise  and 
inventions  planned  for  her  brother's  guests  by  the 
ambassador's  artistic  sister,  Madame  la  Marquise  de 
Brehan.  Where  did  such  an  odd,  wliimsical  old  lady 
get  her  wonderful  sense  of  color  ? 

These  matters  were  under  discussion  one  afternoon 
in  the  drawing-room  of  a  large  house  situated  near 
the  lower  end  of  "  the  Broadway,"  past  which,  cus 
tomarily,  streamed  and  flaunted  the  fashionable  world 
of  promenaders.  Built  of  glazed  brick,  its  roof  sur 
mounted  by  a  platform  with  balustrades  meant  for 
taking  the  air  of  a  summer  evening,  and  the  front 
door  by  a  plaque  with  armorial  bearings,  this  dwelling 
was  the  most  important  one  in  the  vicinity,  and  in 
the  highest  condition  of  good  repair.  Its  windows 
opened  at  the  rear  upon  a  garden  terraced  to  the 
river,  from  which  now  floated  in  a  refreshing  odor  of 
salt  water  tinctured  with  a  scent  of  wallflowers  and 
hyacinths  in  bloom.  By  peeping  through  the  shut 
ters  of  the  drawing-room,  bowed  on  the  street  side, 
one  had  a  capital  view  of  the  thoroughfare. 

During  the  recent  months  of  her  widowhood — of 
course,  not  at  first — Mistress  Lucilla  Warriner  had 
established  outside  another  of  the  windows,  at  which 
she  was  wont  to  sit  with  her  tambour-frame,  a  small 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  5 

circular  mirror.  In  this  she  could  see,  without  being 
likely  to  be  seen,  people  ascending  her  broad  steps 
to  pull  the  jangling  bell  behind  which  black  Pompey 
sat  and  napped,  in  waiting  to  admit  or  refuse  visitors. 

To-day  Pompey  had  received  no  instructions  ex 
clusive  or  prohibitory.  Mrs.  Warriner's  drawing- 
room  was  full  of  people.  The  cream  of  governmental, 
professional,  and  higher  mercantile  circles  mingled 
there  with  the  gentry  of  independent  means  content 
simply  to  adorn  society.  Around  the  fair  hostess 
gathered,  as  usual,  an  admiring  coterie.  It  was  a 
subject  of  congratulation  to  them  all  that  her  "  sec 
ond  mourning  "  was  now,  at  last,  merged  into  visible 
lavender,  and  that  she  had  appeared  at  two  balls  in  a 
week. 

"And  how  many  more  are  to  come?  It  's  posi 
tively  killing,"  declared  Mistress  Lucilla. 

The  widow  did  not  look  as  if  she  had  any  idea 
of  paying  nature's  last  debt.  Her  chestnut  hair, 
worn  in  a  high  tour,  and  surmounted  by  a  coquettish 
wisp  of  Mechlin  lace, — to  match  that  on  her  pinner, 
sleeve-ruffles,  and  muslin  apron,— was  shot  with  sunny 
gleams.  Her  lips  and  cheeks  were  living  roses.  Her 
eyes  of  warm  hazel  could  as  easily  dance  with  mis 
chief  as  cloud  with  sympathy.  And  her  complexion 
of  fine  translucent  texture !  Only  Mrs.  Jay's  and 
Queen  Marie  Antoinette's  of  France  could  equal  it  in 
brilliancy  of  tint ! 

Nine  years  before,  when  a  girl  of  seventeen,  coming 
of  a  good  family  in  Albany,  Miss  Lucilla  Chester  had 
been  wedded  by  her  ambitious  parents  to  Octavius 
Warriner,  Esquire,  lord  of  a  great  manor  on  the 


6  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

Hudson,  owner  of  one  of  the  finest  houses  in  New 
York,  and  descendant  of  a  line  of  feudal  rulers  in 
the  colony.  The  young  lady  had  been  seen  by  him 
first  when  a  school-girl  at  a  ball  for  the  Continental 
officers  of  Morristown,  in  New  Jersey,  and  the  close 
of  the  war  had  witnessed  the  accomplishment  of  their 
nuptials. 

Just  what  those  years  of  dazzling  fortune  had 
really  meant  to  Lucilla  none  knew  save  her  confiden 
tial  servants,  and  perhaps  her  husband's  cousin,  Cap 
tain  Arnold  Warriner,  late  of  the  Continental  Army. 
Lucilla's  father  had  died ;  and  the  journey  from  Al 
bany  to  the  Manor-house  was  said  to  be  too  formi 
dable  to  be  often  taken  by  Mrs.  Warriner's  mama, 
who,  however,  knew  the  real  reason  why  she  so  rarely 
visited  her  son-in-law. 

The  outer  world,  impressed  by  the  pomp  of  Octa- 
vius's  appearances  in  public  and  his  benefactions  to 
State  and  charity,  could  not  be  supposed  to  guess  that 
his  wife  and  her  vast  household  of  servants  had  actu 
ally  lived  like  mice  on  cheese-parings ;  or  that  her 
elderly  husband  had  held  in  check  every  impulse  of 
Lucilla's  girlish  spirit,  weighed  and  measured  every 
item  of  her  personal  expenditure,  treated  her  with 
cold  formality,  and,  in  sum,  withheld  from  her  young 
life  all  save  the  bare  necessaries  of  existence.  Nothing 
but  the  immortal  elasticity  of  youth  had  kept  her 
from  asphyxiating  of  ennui. 

And  when  he  died  he  had  left  her  everything.  His 
will,  extolling  her  virtues  with  the  turgid  grace  of  a 
tombstone,  placed  in  her  inexperienced  hands  control, 
so  long  as  she  should  survive,  of  one  of  the  largest 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOEK  7 

fortunes  in  the  State.  She  was  now,  at  six-and4wenty, 
like  a  nun  emerged  from  a  cloister  to  rule  over  a 
principality ! 

Octavius  Warriner's  demise  had  occurred  at  the 
Manor-house  nearly  two  years  before  our  story  be 
gins.  Arnold,— who  had  been  always  kept  at  a  for 
mal  distance  from  this  household,— together  with  a 
few  remoter  relatives,  saw  to  it  that  the  chief  of  their 
family  was  consigned  to  his  last  rest  in  a  style  be 
fitting  his  high  place  in  the  community.  Madam 
Chester  came  from  Albany  to  take  up  permanent 
abode  in  a  mansion  of  which  she  had  been  long  itch 
ing  to  advise  the  management.  The  funeral  was  im 
posing.  A  pipe  of  spiced  wine,  with  rivers  of  beer 
and  cider,  were  dispensed  to  its  attendants,  while  the 
gloves,  hatbands,  scarfs,  mourning-rings,  and  monkey- 
spoons  conferred  on  the  pall-bearers  and  the  execu 
tors  of  the  will  were  the  costliest  money  could  buy. 
The  lord  of  the  Manor  was  followed  to  his  ancestral 
tomb  in  the  Hudson  wilderness  by  a  long  train  of 
kinsmen,  tenants,  servants,  and  dependents,  leaving 
his  wife  clinging  to  her  mother  in  the  great  empty 
house  at  home.  But  not  crying.  Lucilla  was  too 
dazed  for  that ! 

As  months  passed,  and  her  nature  had  rebounded, 
Lucilla  had  been  shocked  by  experiencing  a  glad, 
mad  sense  of  joy.  In  the  first  year  of  widowhood 
she  had  elected  to  spend  most  of  her  time  at  their 
country-seat,  of  which  the  surrounding  groves  and 
brawling  streams  and  mighty,  placid  river  were  al 
leged  by  her  mother  to  exercise  a  soothing  influence 
on  her  sort  of  grief. 


8  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

Often  and  again  would  she  escape  from  the  sitting- 
room,  done  in  prim  sunflower-yellow  damask  and 
scented  with  strange  foreign  odors,  wherein  Madam 
Chester  sat  before  a  fire  of  hickory  logs,  knitting  in 
hand,  a  smile  of  satisfied  ambition  wreathing  her 
handsome  lips  at  thought  that  no  male  creature  with 
obstinate  ideas  stood  now  between  Lucilla's  and  her 
own  enjoyment  of  luxurious  life!  Lucilla  had  lis 
tened,  until  endurance  ceased  to  be  a  virtue,  to  old 
saws,  placid  self-gratulations  that  Madam  Chester 
had  been  enabled  by  Providence  to  furnish  poor  Mr. 
Warriner  with  such  a  devoted  helpmeet,  and  agreeable 
forecasts  of  a  wider  material  outlook  when  their  days 
of  mourning  should  be  past.  She  often  longed  for 
indulgence  in  her  own  thoughts,  for  a  fresher  air,  for 
a  tramp  in  the  wintry  woods,  guarded  only  by  her 
hound.  Sometimes,  when  snow  lay  glistening  on  the 
Highlands  opposite,  she  would  go  down  the  steep 
hillside  to  the  ice-bound  river,  and,  attended  at  a  dis 
tance  by  two  negro  footmen,  skate  for  miles,  coming 
back  reluctantly  to  where  the  blue  curls  of  smoke 
rose  from  her  chimneys  on  the  eminence  above. 

Far  as  her  eye  could  reach  on  either  hand  it  was  all 
her  own  domain.  He  had  left  it  to  her  without  re 
striction  for  her  lifetime ;  the  use  of  it  all,  and  all  the 
income,  were  hers ;  though  at  her  death  the  lands,  and 
whatever  should  then  be  left  of  the  principal  of  the 
personalty,  were  to  go  to  Arnold  Warriner.  The  whole 
great  estate  with  its  gardens,  lawns,  fruit-orchards,  and 
deer  parks,  the  mansion  with  its  appendage  of  forty 
black  slaves  to  do  her  bidding,  and  the  town  house, 
not  to  speak  of  the  long  rent-rolls  and  fat  hoardings 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOEK  9 

of  her  late  penurious  spouse !  Lucilla  was  a  princess 
in  fortune  and  surroundings. 

But  are  not  all  princesses  at  times  a  little  dull? 
The  young  widow  whom  fate  had  so  richly  dow 
ered  was  the  kind  of  woman  whose  ambitions  are 
bounded  by  the  hearth-rug,  provided  Love  sits  on  the 
other  side.  She  had  never  known  a  hearth-rug  with 
this  embellishment.  But  in  her  heart  she  longed  for 
happy  young  companionship,  for  sympathy,  fun,  con 
tact  with  other  people's  lives,  and — low  be  it  whis 
pered  !  —two  things  in  special :  a  real  lover,  and  a  pale- 
blue  satin  paduasoy !  Blue  was  her  color— no  doubt 
about  that ;  but  she  had  never  owned  a  satin,  rich, 
thick,  lustrous,  that  would  make  an  imposing  "  cheese  " 
when  she  courtesied  in  company.  And  the  petticoat 
to  go  with  it  should  be  of  blue-and-silver  stuff,  the 
stockings  silk  with  silver  clocks,  the  feathers  blue 
marabou  with  silver  fringe !  With  a  guilty  start, 
Lucilla  often  found  herself  wondering  when  the  law 
of  etiquette  would  allow  her  to  realize  this  dream. 

Since  our  grown-up  child  was  not  in  China,  where 
custom  prescribes  the  celestial  colors  to  those  be 
reaved,  the  last-named  longing  had  not  yet  been 
satisfied.  Even  at  the  De  Moustier  ball  the  night 
before  she  had  worn  puce,  with  black  bows,  because 
mama  said  poor  Mr.  Warriner  would  be  pleased 
with  it  if  he  were  looking  down.  To-day,  in  the 
privacy  of  her  own  home,  she  had  gone  so  far  as  to 
add  a  few  knots  of  pale  violet-tinted  ribbon  to  her 
cap  and  handkerchief  and  to  the  pockets  of  her  apron. 
Clearly,  the  blue  satin  was  in  sight ! 

But  the  lover !     Where  was  he  ? 


10  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

"  I  protest,"  went  on  Mistress  Lucilla  to  her  bevy 
of  listeners,  "the  court  quadrilles  last  night  were 
the  prettiest  ever  seen.  I  could  not  make  up  my 
mind  whether  to  avow  myself  for  the  red  rose  of 
France  or  the  bluebell  of  Columbia,  and  so  would  not 
dance  in  them  at  all." 

"But  you  danced  three  times  afterward  with  a 
gentleman  in  red  regimentals,  my  dear  angel ! "  ex 
claimed  her  friend,  Miss  Betsy  Crewe.  "Now,  I 
would  not  for  the  world  have  appeared  on  the  French 
side  in  the  quadrilles,  even  though  the  master  of  cere 
monies  and  the  Marquise  herself  teased  me  to  wear 
the  rosy  scarf.  Well  content  was  I  to  take  my  steps 
in  Columbia's  ranks,  with  such  a  partner  as  I  had  in 
the  blue  and  buff!  But  I  might  have  spared  my 
pains,  for  my  captain  did  nothing  but  look  over 
toward  the  benches  where  a  certain  puce  gown  with 
black'  bows  was  sitting,  trying  to  look  so  demure, 
so  old-ladified,  with  all  the  dowagers !  My  liveliest 
sallies  produced  from  him  nothing  but  glum  answers 
and  melancholy  smiles ;  and  when  the  sets  were  over, 
amid  all  the  applause  we  received,  he  asked  me  only 
if  I  thought  his  Cousin  Warriuer  had  gone  out  to 
her  chair.  Really,  Lu,  you  treat  him  shockingly.  I 
never  saw  a  youth  so  far  gone  in  the  tender  passion. 
And  so  handsome  he  is,  too— quite  the  beauty  among 
our  beaus !  " 

"  My  vote  would  -be  for  his  friend  and  rival  in 
good  looks,  Captain  Laurence  Hope,"  cried  Miss 
Polly  Clinton. 

At  this  point  their  hostess,  who  had  been  serving 
chocolate  in  her  pretty  flowered  cups,  was  so  unfor- 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOEK  11 

tunate  as  to  drop  the  cover  of  the  china  pot  con 
taining  that  fragrant  beverage  upon  the  rim  of  the 
sugar-dish,  breaking  it  to  bits.  And  hearing  the 
crash,  Madam  Chester,  who  was  pouring  out  tea  at 
another  table,  hurried  across  the  room  and  chided 
her  daughter  smartly. 

"  That  Dresden  set,  child,  that  poor,  dear  Mr.  War- 
riner  had  brought  out  on  the  Lovely  Kate,  and  thought 
so  much  of  that  he  kept  it  under  lock  and  key  !  I  'in 
surprised  at  your  heedlessness !  One  would  think 
you  'd  forgotten  your  husband's  feelings." 

"  Here  come  the  two  captains  now,"  interposed  Miss 
Crewe,  properly  ignoring  the  lesson  in  domestic  ethics 
she  overheard.  "  Adonises  in  philopena,  I  call  them !  " 

The  heavy  door  of  carved  mahogany  swinging  in 
ward  revealed  Pompey,  in  his  coat  of  half-mourn 
ing  livery,  strutting  ahead  of  two  young  gentlemen. 
"  Vastly  pretty  fellows  "  they  were  sometimes  styled, 
in  the  phrase  of  that  day ;  but  we  may  see  at  a  glance 
the  inappropriateness  of  the  term  as  applied  to  this 
vigorous  and  manly  couple,  who,  having  both  entered 
the  service  of  the  Continental  Army  as  lads,  had 
gone  through  'the  war  with  credit  and  were  now 
returned  to  New  York. 

Arnold  Warriner,  the  more  regularly  handsome  of 
the  two,  was  first  to  greet  the  lady  behind  the  choco 
late-pot,  a  ceremony  performed  with  the  easy  and 
confident  grace  of  one  who  feels  his  feet  to  be  upon 
firm  ground. 

During  the  last  three  months  he  had  fulfilled  the 
prophecy  of  the  gossips  at  the  outset  of  Lucilla's 
widowhood,  and  had  come  forward  gallantly  and 


12  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

devotedly  as  the  avowed  suitor  of  Ms  late  kinsman's 
fair  relict. 

"  JT  would  be  a  thousand  pities,"  quoth  the  voice  of 
society,  "for  these  two  young  people,  so  obviously 
intended  for  each  other,  to  delay  much  longer  in 
announcing  their  engagement."  True,  it  averred, 
Mistress  Lucilla,  with  her  long  purse  and  charming 
beauty,  might  aspire  with  reason  to  any  match — nay, 
even  to  the  most  illustrious  alliance  with  foreign  rank 
ever  made  in  our  country !  And  Captain  Warriner 
might  yet  find  that,  whilst  he  was  philandering,  some 
visiting  grandee  had  swooped  down  and  carried  off 
the  prize. 

The  captain  was  known  for  a  sad  dawdler  in  love 
matters,  and  elsewhere  was  suspected  of  being  a  black 
sheep.  Until  the  present  time  no  one  could  have 
counted  upon  him  to  remain  faithful  to  one  fair.  But 
now,  some  people  said,  he  could  not  afford  to  wander. 
He  had  lately  lost  much  at  cards  j  his  horse,  Ajax,  that 
had  been  heavily  backed  by  him  to  run  from  the  Pali 
sade  Gate,  at  Wall  Street  and  Broadway,  out  to  Kings- 
bridge  and  back,  in  an  hour  and  forty  minutes,  had 
failed  by  five  minutes;  and  he  was  out  of  pocket 
in  many  other  ways.  What  a  shame  for  such  a  good- 
looking  Warriner  to  be  needing  money,  when  there 
was  his  cousin's  great  property,  to  which  he  had  blood 
right,  and  Mistress  Lucilla  none  ! 

If  he  did  not  get  her,  no  doubt  she  would  soon 
marry  some  one  else,  have  a  houseful  of  children, 
live  to  a  green  old  age,  and  spend  her  first  husband's 
money  upon  a  brood  of  a  different  name  and  race. 

Poetic  justice  and  the  suffrages  of  the  fair  being 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  13 

tlius  all  on  the  side  of  Captain  Arnold,  it  becomes  ns 
to  inquire  what  were  his  own  feelings  in  this  important 
matter.  Outwardly  his  homage  was  laid  without  re 
serve  at  his  pretty  cousin's  feet.  No  other  woman  had 
the  ghost  of  a  show  when  Lucilla  was  in  the  room.  He 
looked  at  her,  languished  from  afar,  or  was  on  hand 
to  render  her  service  as  assiduously  as  a  confessed 
Strephon  should  have  done.  Lookers-on  applauded 
his  frank  surrender  to  Lucilla's  charms. 

Truth  to  tell,  the  captain  applauded  himself.  Since 
He  had  resolved  to  go  into  this  thing,  he  thought  he 
had  done  it  thoroughly.  What  did  he  realty  care  for 
the  rivalry  of  the  other  suitors,  who,  in  three  months, 
had  sprung  up  like  weeds  in  the  widow's  pathway? 
Neither  masqueraders  on  the  French  side  in  red  regi 
mentals,  nor  his  fellow-revelers  in  blue  and  buff,  had 
afflicted  him  with  fear.  He  could  not  bring  himself 
to  feel  apprehensions  of  the  distinguished  member  of 
the  new  Congress,  or  yet  of  the  head  of  the  most  solid 
mercantile  business  in  town,  of  the  widowed  physi 
cian,  or  of  the  old  bachelor  lawyer,  all  of  whom  had 
entered  the  lists  beside  him.  If  it  pleased  Lucilla  to 
fancy  her  fish  tortured  upon  her  hook,  he  was  willing 
to  let  her  play  him,  too. 

Least  of  all  did  Arnold  fear  that  most  outspoken 
opponent  of  his  claims,  Madam  Chester.  He  was 
shrewd  enough  to  see  that  the  lady  would  use  her 
influence  to  keep  at  bay  all  pretenders  to  her  daugh 
ter's  hand.  Never  since  her  own  marriage-day, 
twenty-seven  years  before,  had  Madam  Chester  en 
joyed  so  long  a  space  of  freedom  from  contradiction 
by  a  man.  During  Lucilla's  marriage  she  had  been 


14  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

kept  in  indignant  resentment  of  her  daughter's  hus 
band's  claims.  Was  it  likely  that  in  the  dawn  of  this 
day  of  better  things  the  good  lady  would  wish  to  lay 
her  scepter  down  ?  Besides, — so  said  Captain  Warriner 
irreverently,— the  old  bird  knew  that  her  nest  was  well 
lined  with  the  down  of  Lucilla's  fortune,  and  would 
not  be  likely  to  step  out  of  it  without  a  conflict.  Let 
her  address  to  him  all  the  sarcastic  speeches  in  her 
repertory,  he  did  not  mind.  One  word,  one  downcast 
look,  one  heavenly  blush  of  Lucilla's,  would  give  him 
his  revenge ! 

He  was  really  growing  quite  enamoured  of  this  cou 
sin,  who  in  her  married  life  had  seemed  to  him  a 
silent,  shrinking  girl,  without  initiative,  and  with  only 
a  good  figure  and  skin  to  recommend  her.  Suddenly 
she  had  burst  into  a  rose  of  beauty !  As  much  as 
Captain  Arnold  could  admire  anything  besides  him 
self,  he  admired  his  prospective  wife.  By  and  by,  when 
he  should  feel  quite  ready  to  renounce  celibate  joys, 
he  would  propose  to  her  in  form.  Till  then,  let 
Lucilla  fancy  him  her  humble  captive.  In  matters 
like  this  a  man  has  sometimes  to  stoop  to  conquer. 

To-day,  after  saluting  with  reverence  her  white 
hand,  he  drew  back  and  allowed  Captain  Laurence 
Hope  to  take  his  place.  Now,  there  would  have  been 
no  law1  in  the  social  calendar  broken  by  Captain  Hope 
in  following  the  example  of  his  late  brother  in  arms 
and  bending  to  kiss  the  lily  of  Lucilla's  hand  in 
greeting.  But  he  did  not  do  so,  remaining  stiffly 
erect  until  the  widow,  whose  face  had  been  half 
averted  at  his  approach,  turned  upon  him  the  full 
gaze  of  her  eyes. 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  15 

"  You  are  later  than  you  promised !  "  she  said,  softly 
reproachful. 

"  I  have  been  in  attendance  upon  the  President  in 
the  fourteen-mile  ride/'  was  the  answer.  "  And  the 
mud  left  on  us  by  the  chief's  pace,  when  we  were  well 
out  of  sight  of  men,  necessitated  a  prolonged  toilet  on 
my  return.  Jove  !  he  is  a  wonder  in  the  saddle  !  " 

"  As  in  all  departments  of  life,"  replied  Mrs.  War- 
riner,  primly.  She  wished  not  to  lose  these  moments 
of  tete-a-tete  in  discussing  the  General,  and  began 
to  fear  lest  some  one  else  should  come  in  and  claim 
her  attention.  It  was  so  hard  to  see  any  one  alone  ! 
This  pomp  and  homage  that  surrounded  her  cut  her 
off  from  many  little  privileges  dear  to  her  sex.  And 
then,  Captain  Hope  was  always,  in  a  way,  inscrutable. 
One  minute  she  was  convinced  that  she,  and  she  alone, 
possessed  his  heart;  the  next  she  feared,  nay,  was 
assured  of,  his  complete  indifference. 

At  that  moment  some  story-teller  on  the  other  side 
of  the  room  began  retailing  a  delicious  bit  of  gossip. 
So  nice  was  the  stomach  of  the  French  Ambassador, 
't  was  said,  and  so  contemptuous  his  sister,  the  Mar 
quise,  of  the  American  cuisine,  that  when  invited 
to  dinner,  even  with  the  heads  of  government,  't  was 
the  custom  of  his  Excellency  to  sit  without  eating, 
crumbling  bread  upon  the  cloth,  till  the  mo*ment  for 
the  service  of  the  releve.  Then  in  would  march  the 
Ambassador's  chef,  in  snowy  cap  and  apron,  a  damask 
napkin  on  his  arm,  carrying  a  mighty  pie  of  truffled 
game  of  his  own  making.  The  dainty  was  placed 
before  his  master,  who,  after  serving  it  to  his  neigh 
bors,  ate  of  it  and  of  no  other  dish ! 


16  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

This  anecdote,  followed  by  others  as  savory  con 
cerning  the  eccentricities  of  the  Marquise,  had  the 
effect  of  diverting  to  the  fortunate  speaker  the  whole 
attention  of  the  room.  M.  Brissot  de  Warville,  the 
cheery  little  traveler  and  teller  of  strange  tales,  com 
ing  in  soon  after,  was  quite  cast  into  the  shade. 

Lucilla  only,  and  Hope— who  said  little  and  was 
more  than  ever  a  victim  of  reserve— remained  by  the 
table  supporting  Mr.  Warriner's  now  totally  unheeded 
Dresden  chocolate  set.  When  the  widow  found  that 
they  were  not  to  be  interrupted  for  this  little  precious 
time,  she  could  not  restrain  the  almost  pleading  note 
that  crept  into  her  tones : 

"You  did  not  see  fit  to  join  me  in  the  promenade 
yesterday,  after  all !  And  when  I  found  that  a  certain 
gentleman  had  not  pressed  to  claim  my  hand  for  the 
Columbian  side  of  the  quadrilles,  I  went  over  in  a 
secret  pet,  and  took  my  place  among  the  ancients, 
where  I  suppose  he  thinks  I  fain  should  be." 

"  Where,  by  heaven,  your  beauty  shone  forth  with 
redoubled  splendor,"  cried  he,  irrepressibly.  "Ah, 
madam,  what  have  I  done  that  you  should  add  this 
to  my  burden  of  self-denial  ?  I  believe  you  know 
full  well  that  during  the  quadrilles  I  sulked  in  the 
card-room,  as  savage  in  my  solitude  as  an  Indian 
chief." 

"  I,  too,  was  sulky,"  said  she,  pouting,  but  with  an 
inward  glow.  His  impassioned  speech  had  trans 
formed  his  whole  face  and  manner.  Never  had  she 
found  him  so  noble,  so  beautiful.  But  now  that  she 
had  won  him  to  give  her  this  much,  she  must  at  once 
restrain  him  from  giving  more. 


IN   OLD  NEW  YORK  17 

"  I  felt  cross  because  of  my  gown.  Although  sober 
in  hue,  it  was  half  covered  with  lace  no  woman  in 
town  can  match ;  and  an  officer,  whose  name  I  won't 
tell  you,  since  he  has  threatened  to  commit  suicide  for 
his  awkwardness,  had  just  allowed  his  sword-hilt  to 
make  a  fearful  rent  in  the  left  side  of  my  tunic.  Now, 
picture  my  predicament!  To  mend  this  properly  I 
must,  perhaps,  send  to  Brussels,  where  't  was  made, 
and  go  without  wearing  it  for  horrid  ages.  Though 
that  reminds  me,  Captain  Hope.  No  longer  ago  than 
last  week  a  friend  told  us  that  your  mother  knows  of 
a  Scotch-Irish  person — a  protegee  of  hers — the  most 
skilled  mender  of  laces  in  the  town.  Perhaps  you 
might  help  me  to  the  services  of  this  Miss — what  did 
they  call  her?  Miss  Eve  Watson— was  it  not!" 

Now,  indeed,  had  Mrs.  Warriner  opportunity  to 
observe  an  excellent  display  of  Captain  Hope's  before- 
mentioned  peculiarity  of  changing  mood  with  star 
tling  suddenness.  He  became  stiff  as  a  ramrod,  grew 
red,  then  pale,  then  fixed  upon  her  a  piercing  look  as 
if  seeking  to  read  her  thoughts. 

"  Whatever  can  you  mean  ? "  she  cried,  with  a  per 
fectly  natural  surprise.  "I  ask  you  the  simplest 
favor,  and  one  would  think  I  had  committed  a  capital 
offense.  Be  sure,  captain,  that  after  this  I  shall  tres 
pass  no  more  on  your  good  nature." 

"  Then  you  had  no  ulterior  motive  ?  Nobody  has 
been — you  are  quite  unaware  ?  Oh,  no  !  I  see  it ;  you 
are  as  innocent  as  a  child,  and  I  am  an  ill-mannered, 
touchy  brute,  who  deserves  to  be  crossed  off  your  list 
of  acquaintances.  Mrs.  Warriner,  although  you  have 
known  me  three  months,  it  has  alwa)  s  been  under  the 


18  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

eyes  of  strangers  and  t  outsiders.  Not  so  much  as  a 
stroll  with  you  have  I  had  without  some  idiot  of  a 
man  or  gossip  of  a  woman  coming  up  and  interrupting 
us.  For  many  a  whole  sleepless  night  I  have  plotted 
to  gain  speech  with  you  alone,  and  been  foiled  when 
the  time  came.  If  you  could  know  me  as  I  am— if 
somewhere  in  this  overcrowded  world  there  were 
allotted  to  us  two  a  spot  secluded  from  observa 
tion—" 

Lucilla,  in  the  not  unhappy  confusion  of  her  feel 
ings,  cast  a  thought  to  the  lonely  acres  of  Warriner 
Manor,  wondering  if  she  would  find  them  quite  the 
same  in  the  company  of  this  handsome,  petulant  fel 
low,  who  had  again  checked  himself,  and  was  biting 
his  lip  in  vexation  at  having  said  so  much ! 

Then  into  her  mind  sped  a  little,  tempting  winged 
thought.  In  the  garden  at  the  rear,  where  spring 
flowers  were  a-blow  and  trees  leaned  their  leafy 
branches  toward  the  river's  brink,  there  was  a  bench 
where  she  often  sat  alone. 

"  If  to-morrow  is  fine,  and  you  care  to  come  through 
the  wicket  of  my  garden  toward  five  o'clock,"  she  said, 
blushing  deeply,  "  I  think  I  can  show  you  a  bed  of 
tulips  that  would  do  credit  to  any  goede  vrow  of  earlier 
days." 

What  Hope  would  have  answered,  Lucilla  could 
but  surmise.  While  a  new  arrival  claimed  her,  again 
the  too-frequent  cloud  came  upon  his  brow,  and  ho 
drew  back,  then  waited  until  he  could  say  in  a  low 
whisper : 

"  Be  it  so,  then.  I  shall  be  there,  though  I  have 
no  right  to  give  myself  such  happiness." 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  19 

"And  you  won't  forget  the  lace-mender?"  replied 
Lucilla,  joyous  that  she  had  conquered,  and  hardly 
knowing  what  she  said. 

For  answer  he  hurried  from  the  room. 

And  now  Lucilla  was  again  surrounded. 

"  I  can't  divine  what  ails  Captain  Hope,"  said  Miss 
Polly  Clinton,  who  had  seen  something  of  what  had 
passed.  u  I  '11  vow  he 's  completely  changed,  this  month 
past.  So  fickle  in  his  moods,  and  so  prone  to  get  into 
gloomy  spells !  " 

"  They  say,"  put  in  an  acidulated  widow  of  forty, 
who  had  not  yet  succeeded  in  replacing  her  lost  trea 
sure  of  a  spouse,  "that  since  their  reverse  of  fortune 
his  mother  never  ceases  to  urge  on  him  the  necessity 
to  marry  money.  And  what  with  this  pressure  at 
home,  and  his  poor  father  a  paralytic  in  his  chair,  and 
the  Hopes  knowing  themselves  bygones,  it  can't  be 
supposed  that  Laurence  can  take  a  cheerful  view  of 
life.  Besides,  what  old  New-Yorker  does  n't  know 
that  on  his  mother's  side  of  the  family  there  is  de 
rangement?  His  great-aunt  Prissy  used  to  fancy 
herself  the  wife  of  the  man  in  the  moon.  Dear 
knows  't  would  be  a  risk  for  any  sane  woman  to  take 
up  with  Captain  Hope,  be  she  young  or  getting  on  in 
life." 

And  with  this  last  not  barbless  shaft  Mistress 
Malice  took  her  flight.  Mrs.  Warriner  took  this 
painful  weapon  to  bed  with  her  that  night,  turned 
it  in  the  wound,  and  cried  over  the  smart.  At  one 
moment  she  was  resolved  to  play  him  false  by  failing 
to  be  in  the  garden  at  the  appointed  time.  At  the 
next  she  smiled  with  sweet  triumph  and  confident  be- 


20  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

lief  that  lie  loved  her  for  her  own  loving  self  alone ! 
But  how  very  abrupt  and  odd  he  had  been  about 
doing  her  the  simple  favor  she  had  asked !  What 
could  there  be  about  a  mere  lace-mender  to  come 
between  her  and  the  monarch  of  her  heart  ? 


II 


HE  dwelling  in  Queen  Street  toward 
which  Captain  Hope  directed  his  steps 
after  leaving  the  widow  Warriner's 
tea-table  was  already  beginning  to  take 
rank  in  the  town  as  a  relic  of  antiquity, 
the  one  marking  the  earliest  pretension  of  New  York 
to  luxurious  living. 

Built  in  1695  by  his  father's  grandfather,  its  bold 
facade,  and  generous  dimensions  of  sixty  by  eighty 
feet,  together  with  the  carvings  and  decorations  of 
the  exterior,  and  the  great  empty  stables  and  coach 
house  in  the  rear,  excited  much  reverence  from 
lookers-on. 

What  of  the  inside  failed  to  be  revealed  in  the  air 
ings  and  cleanings  Madam  Hope's  black  women  from 
time  to  time  bestowed  on  it  was  invented  by  lively 
imagination,  and  handed  down  to  swell  tradition's 
blast. 

People  loved  to  talk  of  the  old  French  nutwood 
furniture,  the  velvet  cushions  trimmed  with  gold  lace, 
the  mirrors  and  pictures  of  the  rooms  of  state  on  the 
first  floor.  They  said  less  of  the  smaller  apartments 
up-stairs,  kept  warm  and  cozy  for  the  two  invalids 
who  were  all  that  was  left  to  represent  the  proud 
line  of  founders  of  the  house. 

21 


22  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

For  the  predecessors  of  Laurence  Hope  had  figured 
conspicuously,  and  at  times  brilliantly,  in  the  political 
and  military  aif airs  of  the  province.  Their  name  was 
writ  high  in  history ;  and  the  fact  that,  through  one 
accident  of  fortune  after  another,  the  present  repre 
sentatives  of  the  family  were  near  the  bottom  of  the 
ladder  did  not  cause  their  fellow-citizens  to  regard 
the  Hopes  as  of  less  social  consequence  than  before. 

But  these  circumstances,  however  soothing  to  pride, 
failed  in  making  Laurence  Hope's  home  a  pleasant 
resort  for  a  man  in  the  vigor  of  his  youth.  He  well 
knew  what  he  would  find  there :  his  father,  helpless 
and  almost  childish  in  his  chair,  eager  to  ask  ques 
tions,  forgetful  before  the  answers  came,  still  more 
eager  about  the  little  dishes  and  dainty  menus  the 
women-folk  managed  to  provide  for  him ;  his  mother, 
whose  courage  and  ceaseless  effort  to  hold  up  the 
falling  pillars  of  their  house  had  failed,  with  her 
health,  a  few  years  back,  upon  the  death  of  her  elder 
son,  who,  though  a  rake  and  a  gambler,  was  yet  the 
darling  of  her  heart !  She  was  now  a  creature  of 
whims  and  exactions,  whose  bursts  of  temper  were 
succeeded  by  hours  of  frozen  silence. 

And  Eve— there  was  always  Eve ! 

Eve  was  twenty,  now.  She  had  been  "taken  up" 
by  Madam  Hope,  then  in  full  possession  of  her  rare 
gift  of  management,  when  b^£  a  waxen-faced  girl  of 
sixteen  with  a  mop  of  thick  red  hair,  the  child  of  a 
Scotch-Irish  mechanic,  who  had  brought  her,  an  infant 
in  arms,  across  the  sea  to  try  his  luck  in  the  New 
World.  Job  Watson  had  prospered  at  his  trade  of 
carpentry,  but,  losing  his  wife,  had  been  glad  to  secure 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOEK  23 

a  home  for  Eve  in  the  house  of  gentlefolk,  where  she 
co aid  be  trained  for  domestic  service. 

In  the  beginning  Madam  Hope  had  found  out  the 
girl's  talent  for  finest  needlework.  Were  there  a 
moth-hole  in  some  web  of  Indian  loom,  a  "  snag  "  in 
priceless  lace,  or  worn  place  in  rich  old  table-damask, 
Eve's  twinkling  fingers  could  make  it  as  good  as  new. 
From  keeping  her  mistress's  wardrobe  and  table-linen 
in  repair  she  had  passed  on  to  be  amanuensis,  secre 
tary,  sick-nurse,  companion,  accountant,  and  at  last 
manager  and  mainstay  of  the  household.  Under  her 
rule,  comfort  was  now  maintained  where  otherwise 
there  would  have  been  a  barren  waste.  And  during 
the  period  of  her  development  to  high  womanly  use 
fulness,  and  while  reflecting  the  refinement  of  her 
surroundings,  a  common  miracle  of  nature  was  ac 
complished.  Eve  had  grown  beautiful ! 

Many  eyes  and  tongues  had  made  note  of  this  fact 
before.  When  the  girl  was  just  turned  nineteen 
Captain  Laurence  was  ordered  to  New  York.  One 
can  imagine  the  effect  upon  young  Hope's  imagina 
tion  of  this  sweet  and  helpful  vision  in  his  stricken 
home.  Modest  and  self-effacing,  Eve  never  pushed 
herself  upon  the  interviews  he  held  daily  with  his 
parents ;  but  as  to  her  they  looked  for  services  he 
could  not  render,  he  had  been  for  months  seeing  her 
continually,  and  had  owed  her  the  most  substantial 
consolations  of  his  difficult  position.  It  was  Eve  who 
made  smooth  the  rough  places  inevitable  in  their 
intercourse.  It  was  Eve  who  had  been  his  friend- 
confidante — and  latterly  something  nearer. 

Spite  of  this  magnet,  Hope  did  not  now  seem  to 


24  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

hasten  to  reach,  his  home.  He  made  a  detour,  walk 
ing  far  and  hard  before  going  back  to  the  neighbor 
hood  of  the  paternal  mansion.  When  he  again  turned 
into  their  street  the  afternoon  was  closing  into  even 
ing,  and  the  tall  house,  looming  up  against  a  daffodil 
sky,  seemed  to  him  steeped  in  shadows. 

Above  the  portal  at  the  front  was  a  massive  bal 
cony  from  which  bygone  governors  of  the  province 
had  been  wont  to  review  troops.  Looking  up  at  it 
through  recent  habit,  Hope  saw  fly  out  toward  him  a 
fluttering  square  of  white. 

At  once  Laurence  turned  and  retraced  his  steps. 
When  at  a  point  secure  against  observation  from  the 
house  he  waited.  His  lips  were  drawn,  his  forehead 
knotted.  Whoever  was  coining  to  be  his  comrade, 
no  buoyancy  of  welcome  was  in  the  mien  of  Laurence 
Hope. 

Almost  immediately  he  was  joined  by  a  girl  in  a 
gown  of  oft-washed  dimity,  carrying  in  her  hand  a 
traveling-bag,  and  wearing  a  veil  of  green  gauze 
drawn  closely  over  the  front  of  her  straw  scoop- 
bonnet. 

"  So  you  are  for  the  water,  after  all  ? "  he  said,  with 
attempted  lightness.  "Had  I  known  you  could  re 
lent  in  my  favor  I  'd  have  come  home  earlier.  Last 
night,  when  I  dropped  in  to  show  the  old  people  my 
regimentals  for  the  ball,  you  were  adamant  about 
going  out  alone  with  me,  unknown  to  them.  What, 
Eve — crying !  Take  my  arm,  dear,  and  let  us  walk 
on.  Then  you  can  tell  me  what  has  troubled  you." 

"  Laurie,  the  most  dreadful  thing  has  happened ! 
She  found  that  note  you  wrote  asking  me  to  go  out 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  25 

for  a  row  with  you  to-day.  You  know  how  you 
signed  it.  It  is  all  over  j  she  has  ordered  me  from  the 
house." 

"  Eve ! " 

"  Yes.  Don't  speak  till  I  tell  you,  for  I  Ve  no  time 
to  lose.  I  'd  have  walked  the  three  miles  to  father's 
farm  but  that  I  waited  to  speak  to  you.  And  now 
it 's  too  late  for  me  to  walk  alone,  and — and  I  have 
no  money  for  a  chaise." 

Her  voice,  broken  by  weeping,  failed  her. 

"Eve,  my  mother  must  be  mad  if  she  sent  you 
away  penniless." 

"  She  does  not  know  that  I  am  so.  There  are 
reasons  I  can't  explain  why  it  is  thus.  But  that  is 
nothing  beside  the  way  she  spoke.  Laurie,  she  can 
be  terrible  when  you  are  in  question.  She  was  like 
a  tigress  robbed  of  her  young." 

"  Come  back,  then,  and  let  me  tell  her  that  I  will 
brook  no  such  interference  in  my  affairs  !  "  exclaimed 
the  young  man,  fiercely.  "  We  shall  see  whether  or 
not  I  have  the  right  to  choose  a  wife  for  myself." 

"  Oh,  no,  no  !  She  has  shown  me  too  plainly  the  in 
solence  of  such  pretension  on  my  part.  The  madness 
was  mine,  even  to  listen  to  you,  to  dream  that  I  could 
be  accepted  by  your  family.  Laurie,  it  would  have 
been  a  thousand  times  better  had  we  been  firm  at 
first,  and  not  let  ourselves  drift  into  this  thing,  that 
can  bring  us  nothing  but  misery.  Wherever  I  look 
ahead  there  is  no  hope  for  us.  My  father — " 

11  That  rigid  old  Bluelight  ought  to  have  served 
with  the  Covenanters,  and  by  hacking  and  hewing 
worked  out  his  objections  to  my  class.  Is  it  only 


26  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

because  I  am  what  I  am,  Eve,  that  you  think  he 
would  refuse  you  to  me?  Or  is  there  another 
reason  ? " 

"  He  has  always  warned  me  against  you1  since  the 
first  time  you  came  home,  and  I  think  he  honestly 
believes  that  a  man  who  plays  cards  and  goes  to  the 
playhouse  is  on  the  highroad  to  perdition.  But  I 
must  tell  you  the  truth,  Laurie.  He  has  set  his  heart 
on  my  marrying  a  young  man,  a  fellow-workman  of 
his ;  and  because  I  won't  hear  of  Luke  Adam  son  for 
a  suitor  he  has  been  very  violent.  My  last  visit  home 
was  such  as  I  try  not  to  think  about.  And  when  he 
knows  I  have  promised  to  marry  you—" 

"  There  '11  be  the  deuce  to  pay,  then,  at  your  house, 
as  well  as  mine.  Eve,  little  girl,  we  are  n't  the  first 
couple  that  failed  to  count  the  cost  of  falling  in  love. 
But  I  '11  stand  by  you,  and  never  fear  but  we  '11  pull 
out  of  this  trouble.  How  far  you  were  excusable  for 
your  share  in  the  matter  it  does  n't  become  me  to  say. 
But  are  n't  you  the  only  bright  spot  of  my  home  ?  " 

"  Don't  remind  me  of  that ;  after  all,  I  owe  the  best 
of  my  life  to  your  dear  mother !  For  I  do  love  her,  Lau 
rie,  in  spite  of  her  cruelty  to-day.  She  was  not  her 
self.  She  has  had  many  sore  trials,  and  it  should  n't 
have  been  I  who  added  to  them.  What  can  they  do 
without  me?  Who  will  there  be  to  take  my  place 
this  evening?  He  '11  never  sleep  without  my  read 
ing  aloud;  and  she  calls  me  always,  the  last  thing 
before  she  drops  off,  to  lay  my  hand  upon  her  fore 
head  and  soothe  her  nerves.  It  was  my  fault.  I  pre 
sumed  too  far  and  forgot  my  station,  and  now  my 
poor  benefactors  will  never  ask  me  to  come  back. 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  27 

Oh,  Laurie,  Laurie,  already  my  sin  has  found  me  out ! 
Help  me  to  get  home  and  brave  my  father's  anger ; 
and  do  you  go  back  and  tell  them  that  I  swear  never 
to  think  of  you  again,  except  as  the  child  of  my  dear 
est,  truest  friends." 

The  glad  bounding  of  Laurence  Hope's  heart  al 
most  took  away  his  powers  of  speech.  What  he 
would  have  answered  was  restrained  by  the  burst  of 
grief  that  now  overwhelmed  his  young  companion, 
shaking  her  slender  form  until  he  was  forced  to  put 
his  arm  around  her  for  support. 

Although  the  streets  were  nearly  deserted— save  by 
the  muffin-man,  and  the  carts  carrying  water  from  the 
tea-house  pump— he  feared  to  attract  the  notice  of 
passers-by,  and  looked  about  him  for  some  place  of 
refuge. 

By  good  fortune  they  were  just  then  passing  the 
thread-and-needle  and  comfit  shop  of  Mrs.  Pips,  one 
of  his  mother's  beneficiaries,  a  lone  woman  whom  he 
had  known  over  her  little  counter  from  the  days  of 
his  earliest  purchases.  By  looking  through  the  glass 
of  the  closed  door  he  could  see  that  the  tiny  place  was 
empty  of  customers,  and  leading  Eve  within,  he  ex 
plained  to  the  proprietor  that  she  had  been  suddenly 
taken  faint  upon  the  street— adding  that  he  was  off 
to  secure  a  chaise  in  which  to  take  her  home. 

"  Dear  heart,  and  that  's  little  enough  to  ask  for 
Eve  Watson,  who  brings  me  all  the  custom  o'  your 
house,  captain,"  exclaimed  the  dame ;  "  let  alone  what 
Madam  Hope  did  when  my  poor  Pips  lay  a-dyin'  in 
that  very  room  behind  the  shop,  where  I  '11  take  the 
girl  and  let  her  sit  in  quiet." 


28  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

As  Hope  hastened  away,  a  sense  of  relief  arising 
amid  his  perplexity,  he  did  not  observe  that  two 
young  bucks  of  fashion  strolling  on  the  opposite 
sidewalk  had  stopped  to  take  notice  of  the  little 
episode. 

"  Oh,  ho !  Sits  the  wind  in  that  quarter,  Master 
Laurie?"  said  Arnold  Warriner,  executing  a  low 
whistle  of  surprise.  "  I  wonder  who 's  the  Dulcinea  ? " 

"  Why,  man,  where  have  you  been,  never  to  have 
seen  Eve  Watson,  Madam  Hope's  tirewoman  or  com 
panion,  who  is  reputed  to  be  one  of  the  most  deli 
cious  beauties  of  the  town,  though  so  stiff-necked 
and  uppish  no  one  can  get  her  to  turn  her  head  in 
passing  ?  " 

"  So  that  's  she,  is  it  ? "  replied  Arnold.  "  I  saw 
her  but  once,  at  the  play,  under  Madam  Hope's  wing, 
and  got  no  encouragement  when  I  waited  to  ogle  her 
coming  out.  Laurie  keeps  his  affairs  so  close,  and 
that  old  house  of  theirs  has  become  such  an  ogre's 
castle,  nobody  can  peep  in  through  the  keyhole  even. 
You,  Bellingham,  who  manage  to  pick  up  every  shred 
of  gossip  for  the  clubs  and  drums,  must  have  heard 
of  this  before?" 

"  Never,  upon  my  life !  "  said  Bellingham,  eagerly. 
"  But  what  a  rich  titbit  we  have  now !  If  my  eyes 
did  n't  deceive  me,  that  pretty  head  had  a  very  affec 
tionate  cant  toward  Laurie's  shoulder  when  he  led 
the  drooping  sufferer  indoors.  By  Jove,  it  's  an 
elopement,  or  I  '11  eat  my  hat !  " 

"  Then,  as  dusk  begins  to  favor  us,  we  '11  see  the 
end  of  it,"  added  Warriner.  "  By  stepping  behind 
this  friendly  wooden  Indian  who  serves  the  tobacco- 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  29 

nist  as  a  sign  we  can  stay  a  few  minutes  unobserved 
by  casual  eyes." 

"  "What  will  the  Hopes  say  to  these  divagations  of 
their  son  and  heir ! "  went  on  Bellingham,  savoring 
the  choice  morsel  under  his  tongue.  "  The  proudest 
woman  we  have  is  the  old  dowager  Hope,  and  her 
ruling  passion  the  desire  that  this  son  shall  build  up 
the  family  fortunes  by  a  wealthy  match.  And  only 
this  afternoon  Laurie  was  playing  swain  to  your 
bewitching  cousin.  How  will  the  lovely  widow  bear 
wreathing  her  head  with  willows  for  such  a  rival  ? " 

"  There  is  little  to  fear  in  that  regard/'  said  War- 
riner,  contemptuously.  "  My  cousin,  like  all  pretty 
women,  may  enjoy  making  sunshine  and  storm  for 
her  admirers,  but  when  the  time  comes  for  definite 
choice  another  than  Hope  may  be  in  question." 

Bellingham,  although  a  fop  and  quidnunc,  was 
quick  enough  to  perceive  the  proprietary  note  in  the 
other's  voice,  and  could  not  resist  an  attempt  to  tease 
him. 

"  Oh !  I  'm  an  echo  of  common  talk,  that  's  all," 
he  said,  shrugging.  "  And  any  man  with  half  an  eye 
could  have  seen  that  Madam  Lucilla's  gaze  was  all 
for  Laurie  last  night  and  to-day.  Take  my  advice, 
Warriner,  and  if  you  are  interested  in  the  chances  of 
any  aspirant  for  the  widow's  hand,  contrive  to  let 
her  know  of  the  pretty  scene  we  have  just  enjoyed. 
Hist !  Here  is  a  hackney-coach  drawing  up  opposite, 
and  egad !  Master  Laurie  steps  out  of  it.  I  would  n't 
have  missed  this  for  a  kingdom.  Prodigious  fun, 
is  n't  it  ? " 

While  Arnold  Warriner's  sluggish  passion  for  Lu- 


30  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

cilia  was  thus  fired  to  instant  activity,  and  the  two 
observers  drew  back  into  an  alleyway  whence  they 
could  still  further  pursue  their  investigations,  Lau 
rence  Hope  rushed  into  the  little  shop. 

"  La,  captain,  you  startled  me !  "  cried  Mrs.  Pips, 
who  had  returned  behind  her  counter  to  vend  lollypops 
to  a  deliberating  urchin.  "  Go  in,  sir ;  you  '11  find  all 
quiet  again,  and  the  young  person  none  the  worse  for 
her  faint  turn.  'T  is  but  a  step  to  Queen  Street,  sir, 
and  I  think  she  might  walk ;  but  you  know  best— gen 
tlefolks  know  best.  Miss  Watson  ought  to  be  grateful 
all  her  life  for  such  kindness  and  condescension  on 
your  part.  A  tidy,  industrious  girl,  captain,  as  I  'm 
sure  your  mother  has  found  out ;  and  comes  o'  de 
cent,  God-fearin'  people.  Before  Job  Watson  took 
up  carpentering  and  bought  his  little  place,  he  was 
hired  to  help  in  a  tool-shop  near  ours.  And  though 
I  'm  a  Churchwoman  and  they  Presbyterians,  we  'd 
never  a  word  pass  between  us  but  what  was  befittin' 
good  neighbors.  They  do  say,  captain,  that  Eve  is 
gettin'  finer  prices  than  ever  from  the  gentry  for  her 
lacework  and  those  grand  darns  she  puts  into  silken 
hose.  Vastly  kind  o'  Madam  Hope  to  allow  miss  to 
make  a  nest-egg  for  herself.  Should  n't  wonder, 
now,  if  she  's  given  her  money  all  to  Job  to  lay  by 
for  her !  Canny  folks,  those  Scotch-Irish,  as  poor 
Pips  used  to  say.  Can't  think  what  she  'd  do  with 
her  earnings,  if  they  're  not  in  bank.  Plain  as  a 
pikestaff  in  her  dress,  and  that  straw  hat  bleached 
three  times." 

"  Eve,  dear,"  said  the  young  man,  when,  finally  es 
caping  the  beldam's  eloquence,  he  went  into  the  room 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOKE  31 

behind  the  shop,  "  I  have  brought  a  coach,  as  you  de 
sired,  and  purpose  to  drive  out  with  you  to  your 
father's,  telling  him  frankly  the  circumstances  of  our 
case,  and  that  I  am  ready  to  keep  my  pledge  to  you. 
Don't  say  me  nay.  I  should  feel  like  a  poor  stick  if 
I  let  you  go  there  alone,  at  this  hour,  after  having 
been  turned  out  of  my  mother's  house  under  such 
conditions.  I  have  been  thinking  it  over  since  I  left 
you,  and  there  seems  but  one  way  for  an  honorable 
man  to  act." 

"  I,  too,  have  been  thinking  it  over,  Laurie,"  replied 
the  girl,  resolutely ;  "  and  if  I  was  weak  enough  to 
give  way  and  cause  you  such  trouble  awhile  ago,  I 
am  strong  now.  I  shall  never  consent  to  afflict  your 
poor  mother  by  asking  her  to  countenance  our  mar 
riage.  Already  I  have  forgiven  the  hard  words  her 
passion  wrung  from  her.  I  should  return,  God 
knows,  if  she  would  have  me,  and  do  for  her  as  be 
fore.  But  that  can  never  be  now.  I  have  a  home 
waiting  for  me,  and  will  go  to  it.  Humble  as  it  is, 
I  can  find  happiness,  or  at  least  content,  in  doing  my 
duty.  By  and  by  my  father  will  see  that  I  am  not, 
as  he  thinks,  spoiled  for  him  by  living  with  people 
above  my  sphere.  I  will  make  myself  needful  to 
him.  You  will  find  some  one  more  fit  for  you — some 
one  who  would  never  be  a  reproach,  a  thing  to  apolo 
gize  for,  a  person  to  be  explained  before  she  could 
be  accepted." 

"  Is  this  you,  Eve  ?    I  '11  swear  I  hardly  know  you  !  " 
exclaimed  the  young  man,  bewildered  at  her  passion 
ate  earnestness. 
.     "  Nobody  knows  me,  I  think,"  said  Eve,  smiling 


32  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

mournfully ;  "  and  least  of  all  my  own  father.  The 
truth  is  that  all  this  reading  to  your  father  about  the 
doctrines  of  the  new  government  had  set  me  to  ponder 
ing  and  studying  out  the  question  of  social  equality, 
till  I  suppose  I  thought  the  real  me  good  enough  to  ac 
cept  your  love  and  try  to  make  your  happiness.  But  I 
was  self-deceived.  Your  mother  has  shown  me  that, 
whatever  their  theories,  the  time  is  not  ripe  for  Ameri 
can  aristocrats  to  put  that  into  practice.  And,  Laurie, 
there  is  something  else — something  that  for  days  past 
I  've  tried  to  nerve  myself  to  say  to  you.  I  've  been 
thinking  that  your  fancy  for  me  has  cooled ;  that  you 
acted  on  impulse  when  you  asked  me  to  be  your  wife. 
If  this  is  true,  how  much  better  that  we  should  part 
now  than  let  our  bond  go  on  till  it  becomes  a  chain 
on  you ! " 

"  Poor  little  Eve !  "  sighed  the  young  man,  compas 
sionately. 

There  was  nothing  of  the  coxcomb  in  his  sym 
pathy.  Eve,  recognizing  this,  did  not  shrink  from  it. 
The  mortal  pang  was  that  truthful  Laurence  could 
not  bring  himself  to  contradict  her  statement  that  his 
love  for  her  was  diminished. 

"  Say  no  more  about  it  now,  little  girl,"  he  said 
gently.  "  You  have  suffered  too  much,  and  through 
no  fault  of  yours,  to-day,  and  have  still  an  ordeal  be 
fore  you.  Eve,  I  would  give  anything  to  spare  you 
this  interview  with  your  father— to  help  you  through 
it,  if  I  could—" 

"  You  can't  help  me,  Laurie.  If  you  were  there  it 
would  be  far,  far  worse.  But  although  he  is  violent, 
my  father  is  a  conscientious  man,  and  will  in  time  see 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  33 

that  I  have  done  nothing  to  shame  him,  even  if  I  am 
sent  away  in  apparent  disgrace  from  my  employers' 
home." 

"  It  is  your  home — or  will  be  one  day,  if  you  will 
take  it,  Eve,"  he  exclaimed  hotly. 

"  Laurie !  as  if  I  did  n't  know  you  to  be  the  most 
generous,  impulsive  fellow  alive— one  who  would 
share  your  last  shilling  with  a  friend  in  distress ! 
Don't  let  your  pity  for  me  run  away  with  your  judg 
ment.  Go  back,  dear,  to  your  parents.  They  will  be 
needing  some  one  sorely  now  at  this  very  hour.  Old 
Chloe  can  never  make  them  as  comfortable  as  I  could. 
You  '11  tell  her  not  to  forget  your  father's  drops  at 
nine,  won't  you— and  a  spoonful  of  port  wine  in  your 
mother's  gruel  before  she  goes  to  sleep  f  Oh,  Laurie, 
it  breaks  my  heart  to  have  to  leave  them  to  them 
selves  !  " 

"  Then  come  back  with  me,  Eve,  and  let  me  make 
peace  between  you  and  my  mother." 

"  She  would  never  forgive  me  that !  "  cried  Eve, 
shuddering  away  from  the  arm  he  put  around  her. 
"No,  no;  let  me  go  to  my  own  people,  whom  I 
should  never  have  left !  " 

"  But  I  refuse  to  have  you  break  with  me,  remem 
ber,"  he  protested,  holding  his  head  erect,  with  a  gleam 
of  obstinate  purpose  in  his  eyes,  that  she,  alas !  had 
seen  in  other,  older  eyes  like  his  that  day.  "  My  mo 
ther  knows  that  I  will  not  submit  to  be  coerced.  She 
shall  answer  to  me  for  her  cruelty  to  you !  " 

"  Laurie,  Laurie,  her  heart  is  bound  up  in  you ! 
She  is  an  old,  broken  woman,  and  you  must  be  mer 
ciful  to  her  as  you  are  strong." 


34:  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

Clinging  to  his  arm  and  looking  pleadingly  into 
his  face,  she  would  not  part  with  him  until  he  had 
given  her  his  promise  to  deal  gently  with  his  mother  j 
that  secured,  she  let  him  put  her  into  the  coach. 

"The  driver  tells  me  that  'two  of  the  gentry 'were 
over  yonder  whispering  and  spying  on  our  actions  till 
a  minute  since,"  he  said,  following  her  within  the 
vehiple.  "And,  if  that  be  the  case,  there  may  be 
annoyance  in  store  for  you  from  some  impertinent 
fellows  who  might  see  you  set  off  unprotected.  I  in 
sist  upon  accompanying  you  till  you  are  within  sight 
of  home ;  and  then,  if  you  must,  you  may  go  the  rest 
of  the  way  alone." 

Eve's  protest  was  in  vain.  In  another  moment 
they  were  driving  at  a  brisk  pace  up-town  and  east 
ward  in  the  direction  of  the  Boston  Road. 

Under  a  swinging  oil-lantern  with  which  a  street 
official  had  just  faintly  illuminated  the  darkness  be 
fore  Mrs.  Pips's  shop  door,  Warriner  and  Bellingham 
saw  the  couple  set  off  upon  their  drive. 

"  The  best  luck !  To  think  that  we  should  have 
seen  it  with  our  own  eyes,  not  heard  it  at  a  miserable 
second  hand,  after  half  the  tongues  in  town  had  prated 
the  tidings  to  their  next-door  neighbors,"  cried  Bel 
lingham,  slapping  his  thigh  in  an  ecstasy.  "  Laurie 
Hope,  the  son  and  heir  of  the  most  confoundedly  up 
pish  family  in  the  town,  to  run  off  with  a  little  bag 
gage  of  a  serving- woman— and  all  the  aristocratic 
fair  left  in  the  lurch !  Favorite  against  the  field  ! 
Gad!  Warriner,  I  can't  rest  till  I  'm  among  the 
people  who  have  n't  heard  the  news ! " 

"Did  you  speak?"  asked  Captain  Warriner. 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  35 

Now  that  he  had  something  to  reveal  that  Lucilla 
could  not  doubt,  he  had  begun  to  study  ways  and 
means  by  which  to  convey  the  intelligence  to  her  with 
out  letting  Hope  be  aware  that  he  had  condescended  to 
play  the  spy  upon  his  movements.  As  he  knew  by 
experience,  Hope  was  not  a  man  to  be  trifled  with ; 
and  Arnold  had  no  mind  to  have  an  "  affair  of  honor  " 
on  his  hands  at  this  critical  moment  when  courtship, 
not  fighting,  was  the  occupation  of  his  thoughts.  As 
for  little  Bellingham,  Hope  would  not  consider  him  a 
f  oeman  worthy  of  his  steel. 


Ill 


ROM  the  moment  when  Job  Watson  with 
his  wife  and  baby  had  quitted  his  birth 
place  in  a  green  hillside  village  in  the 
north  of  Ireland  to  take  packet  for 
America,  it  had  been  his  resolve  to  own 
land  in  the  New  World. 

To  that  end  all  else  was  subordinated.  The  foot  of 
a  stocking  serving  to  hold  shillings,  wrenched  from 
his  scant  wages,  gave  place  in  time  to  a  strong  box 
of  his  own  fabrication,  wherein  guineas  were  hoarded 
until  transferred  to  the  bank. 

After  his  wife's  death  and  his  daughter's  engage 
ment  in  the  service  of  Madam  Hope  left  him  free 
from  such  minor  considerations  as  the  care  of  woman 
kind,  Job  toiled  until  his  ambition  was  attained.  He 
became  the  proprietor  of  a  small  house  standing  amid 
several  acres  of  field  and  orchard  on  the  east  side  of 
the  island,  some  three  miles  out  of  town.  It  was  just 
above  where  the  tunnel  of  the  Fourth  Avenue  Railway 
now  sees  passengers  speeding  in  swift  trolley-cars 
underground  and  out  to  the  Grand  Central  station 
and  upper  Madison  Avenue. 

The  locality,  while  isolated,  was  on  high  ground, 
close  to  one  of  the  main  arteries  of  coach  travel  into 
the  interior  of  the  State.  Job's  dwelling,  although  he 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOEK  37 

would  have  preferred  a  different  style  of  architecture, 
happened  to  be  a  trim  little  crow-gabled  cottage  of 
Dutch  pattern,  standing  amid  fruit-trees  now  flushed 
with  apple-blooms.  The  bowerie  surrounding  it  was 
under  fair  cultivation,  and  in  the  outbuildings  Job 
had  already  installed  a  cow,  two  pigs,  an  oldish  horse 
bought  cheap,  and  a  miscellany  of  ducks  and  geese 
and  chickens. 

Beneath  a  pear-tree  in  the  yard  he  had  placed  a 
couple  of  beehives  in  deference  to  his  one  sentimental 
recollection  of  early  youth  in  the  old  country — that  of 
his  weeping  mother  going  out  to  whisper  to,  the  bees 
that  his  little  brother  had  passed  out  of  life.  A  few 
lilac-bushes  and  straggling  syringas  stood  between 
the  door-stone  and  the  gate  leading  in  from  a  rough 
road  that  straggled  up  from  the  public  highway. 
Job's  east  windows,  whether  shining  in  the  morning 
sun,  jet  black  in  the  shadows  of  afternoon,  or  vaguely 
red  at  night  from  the  economical  glow  within,  were  a 
sort  of  pharos  to  the  neighbors  scattered  on  the  lower 
grounds  to  the  southward,  or  nearer  the  East  River. 

Few  of  those  neighbors  felt  tempted  to  go  up  the 
hill  on  fellowship  intent.  Job's  temper  was  not  hos 
pitable,  even  when  they  carried  him  a  nice  job  of  car 
pentry,  or  when  some  fine  piece  of  furniture  belong 
ing  to  the  gentry,  for  which  an  ordinary  craftsman 
would  not  suffice,  was  sent  on  from  the  shop  whither 
it  had  been  taken  for  repair.  For  Job  would  no  longer 
work  with  journeymen,  and  kept  his  tools  sharp  more 
from  habit  than  conscience. 

The  feet  that  oftenest  came  up  the  hilly  road  were 
those  of  Luke  Adamson,  a  young  man  after  Job's  own 


428099 


38  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

pattern  in  the  matter  of  thrift  and  industry.  He  was 
a  tall,  brown,  heavy-featured  fellow  of  thirty,  slow  of 
speech,  slow  of  action,  but  possessed  of  a  dogged  de 
termination  to  carry  to  an  end  things  begun.  Having 
already  laid  up  a  respectable  sum  of  money  in  his 
trade  as  joiner,  and  bought  for  himself  a  little  house, 
some  of  Job's  old  customers  had  learned  to  resort  to 
him,  and  more  were  coming.  In  his  begrudging  way, 
Job  certainly  favored  Adamson  more  than  any  other 
of  his  acquaintances. 

People  thought  this  was  on  account  of  Luke's  hav 
ing  come  out  of  the  same  county  with  the  Watsons, 
although  at  a  later  date.  Common  speculation  pointed 
to  a  marriage  between  the  stalwart  youngster  and 
Job's  fine-lady  daughter,  since  they  had  been  seen 
together  walking  after  church  in  the  wake  of  Eve's 
somber  sire.  With  the  "good  will  and  fixtures" 
of  his  father-in-law's  trade,  and  Luke's  capacity  for 
work,  to  say  nothing  of  Eve's  needlework  and  patron 
age  among  the  great  families  of  the  town,  Adamson's 
chances  were  considered  to  be  pretty  well  assured. 

But  nobody  envied  Luke  his  prospects.  To  live  in 
that  relation  with  crabbed  Master  Watson  was  a  pill 
few  young  men  were  prepared  to  swallow.  And  most 
of  them  considered  it  a  risky  business  to  take  up  with 
a  wife  trained  among  the  gentlefolk.  On  the  rare 
occasions  when  the  girl  relapsed  into  association  with 
her  own  class,  she  made  them  feel  their  deficiencies 
and  fidget  for  an  easier-going  comrade. 

Public  opinion  condemned  Job's  cupidity  for  send 
ing  his  girl  away  from  him  to  earn  her  bread,  instead 
of  keeping  her  to  make  tidy  his  own  hearthstone. 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  39 

Eligible  females  who  had  previously  aspired  in  vain 
to  perform  that  function  were  wont  to  say  that  Mr. 
Watson  was  a  hard  man  in  more  ways  than  one,  and 
they  pitied  the  poor  thing,  be  she  the  wife  or  daugh 
ter,  that  would  have  to  keep  house  for  him.  Young 
and  old  combined  to  decide  that  Luke  Adamson  would 
rue  the  day  when  he  tried  to  get  a  piece  of  porcelain 
to  stand  upon  his  shelf,  instead  of  the  work-a-day  delft 
everywhere  to  be  had  for  the  asking. 

Adamson,  apparently,  did  not  covet  delft.  He  de 
fied  his  critics  in  the  exasperating  way  of  men,  who  in 
all  ages  have  followed  their  own  perverted  ideas  about 
selecting  wives.  From  the  beginning  of  their  acquain 
tance  he  had  loved  Eve  with  the  full  strength  of  his 
tenacious  heart.  For  her  sake  he  had  submitted  to 
the  yoke  of  Job,  until  he  had  won  that  far-seeing 
parent  to  look  upon  him  as  a  son  and  the  literal  prop 
of  his  old  age.  When  Eve  stood  beside  her  father  in 
his  pew  at  church— looking,  the  people  said,  like  a 
governor's,  or  at  least  a  general's,  lady — Luke  gazed 
at  her  from  a  distance,  yearning  for  the  day  when  he 
should  have  amassed  the  sum  of  money  Job  required 
to  see  laid  down  before  he  would  give  consent  to  their 
marriage. 

After  service  Adamson  used  to  join  the  Watsons 
and  walk  with  them  to  the  door  of  the  Hope  mansion, 
where  they  parted  in  the  street.  Job  did  not  ask  his 
daughter  to  go  home  with  him  oftener  than  once  a 
month,  since  it  was  too  far  for  her  to  walk  both  ways, 
and  he  liked  his  horse  and  cart  to  be  idle  on  the 
Sabbath. 

Luke's  best  outlet  for  a  lover's  feelings  was  to  be- 


40  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

stow  upon  his  fair  one  bunches  of  wild  blossoms  from 
the  woods  on  the  upper  part  of  the  island,  or  to  leave 
at  the  Hopes'  back  door  strings  of  fish  of  his  taking 
and  game  of  Ids  shooting.  He  was  surprised  at  the 
animation  of  her  thanks  for  these  latter  favors.  How 
could  he  imagine  that  while  the  flowers  went  to  deck 
Mrs.  Hope's  room,  the  edibles,  after  passing  through 
old  Chloe's  hands,  were  transferred  on  silver  dishes 
and  platters  of  costly  china  to  furnish  forth  the  mea 
ger  table  of  Eve's  employers. 

And  here  comes  in  Eve's  secret,  hoarded  jealously 
in  her  faithful  breast — a  secret  she  would  have  died 
rather  than  reveal  to  Laurence  Hope.  For  more  than 
a  year  past  she  had  been  not  only  receiving  no  wages 
from  his  parents,  but  in  order  to  supply  them  with 
needed  delicacies  and  comforts  was  surreptitiously  en 
gaged  by  night  and  at  odd  moments  in  fulfilling  com 
missions  in  needlework  from  the  dames  of  high  society. 

Strange  caprice  of  heredity  that  implanted  in  Job 
Watson's  child  this  spirit  of  tenderest  self-sacrifice ! 
Eve's  delight  when  she  found  herself  able  to  give  to 
these  poor  gentlefolk  dependent  on  her  care,  and  half 
unconscious  of  their  decadent  fortune,  was  rapturous. 
Her  position  as  manager  of  finances  enabling  her  to 
act  without  fear  of  interference,  her  chief  dread  had 
been  that  in  some  way  Laurence  might  find  out  a  fact 
so  humiliating  to  his  pride.  But  Laurence  had  never 
been  taken  into  his  parents'  confidence  about  their 
affairs,  and  Eve  exerted  all  her  powers  to  keep  him 
ignorant.  Anything  rather  than  cut  down  the  slender 
income  with  which  the  captain  supported  the  family 
honors  before  the  world ! 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOEK  41 

Another  source  of  anxiety  was  the  forced  diminu 
tion  of  the  sum  her  father  had  always  exacted  from 
her  earnings  to  lay  aside,  as  he  said,  until  her  marriage- 
day.  To  provide  this  and  fulfil  the  other  claims  upon 
her  slender  purse  taxed  her  to  the  utmost.  Job,  in 
dignant  at  her  supposed  decrease  of  pay,  had  seriously 
threatened  to  take  her  away  from  service  altogether, 
and  to  marry  her  to  Adamson.  Only  last  Sunday  he 
had  told  her  that  he  would  soon  demand  her  release 
from  the  Hopes. 

And  Eve,  torn  by  conflicting  emotions,  now  felt 
herself  doubly  a  guilty  creature,  in  that  not  only  had 
she  held  back  from  her  father  a  "  part  of  her  price,77 
but  concealed  from  him,  as  from  Hope's  parents,  her 
far  greater  offense  in  exchanging  vows  of  affection 
with  Laurence !  It  was  under  this  double  burden 
that  she  bent. 

Oppressed  by  these  reflections,  and  filled  with 
poignant  grief  that  the  hour  had  come  for  parting 
with  her  lover, — with  whom  she  had  hardly  exchanged 
a  word  during  their  drive, — Eve  quitted  the  coach  at 
the  foot  of  the  hill  upon  which  stood  her  father's 
cottage.  By  the  light  of  a  horn  lantern  lent  her 
by  the  friendly  coachman,  and  carrying  her  bag  in 
the  other  hand,  she  began  picking  her  way  up  the 
uneven  surface  of  a  short  cut  to  the  top  of  the 
ascent. 

In  vain  had  Laurence  urged  her  again  to  let  him 
go  with  her  and  at  least  explain  to  Job  that  her  part 
ing  with  his  famity  involved  nothing  to  her  discredit. 
Eve's  common  sense  convinced  him  that  he  was  the 
last  advocate  to  plead  her  cause  with  success.  But 


42  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

his  parting  words  were :  "  Remember,  I  consider  my 
self  bound." 

He  pressed  her  hand,  and  watched  the  glimmer  of 
her  lantern  recede  farther  and  farther  up  the  path, 
until  it  reached  the  crest  of  the  hill,  where  it  hovered 
for  a  moment,  uncertainly,  before  the  gleam  of  Job's 
taper  shooting  out  through  the  uncurtained  pane  to 
meet  it.  Then  it  went  out  altogether,  and  Laurence, 
with  a  heavy  sigh,  gave  the  order  to  drive  back  to  town. 

When  he  reached  town,  paid  and  dismissed  the 
driver,  and  walked  home,  gloom  filled  his  heart.  Let 
ting  himself  into  the  silent  old  house,  he  mounted 
the  wide,  winding  stairs,  which  from  above  sur 
rounded  a  well  of  darkness  that  seemed  to  be  peopled 
with  phantoms  of  the  past.  On  the  upper  landing,  he 
tapped  at  the  door  of  a  chamber  converted,  for  the 
use  of  the  invalids,  into  an  up-stairs  parlor. 

No  answer.  Pushing  the  door  open,  he  stepped 
into  the  dimly  lighted  room.  The  noise  of  his  entrance 
roused  from  napping  the  old  man  sitting  amid  the 
pillows  of  his  easy-chair,  before  a  handful  of  wood 
embers  in  a  grate. 

"  You  're  back  at  last,  Eve  ? "  asked  a  querulous 
voice.  "  Deuce  take  it  if  I  know  what  has  bewitched 
this  house  to-day.  Old  Chloe  seems  to  have  gone  out 
of  her  wits.  She  came  in  here  just  now  and  babbled 
something  about  your  being  out,  and  the  supper  late, 
and  my  wife  ailing.  Now  you  are  here,  all 's  right, 
lassie.  No  wine  whey  or  slops  for  me,  remember.  Get 
me  something  savory—  " 

"It  is  I,  father;  not  Eve—  "  began  Laurence,  but 
was  interrupted  peevishly : 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  43 

"  And  where  's  Eve,  pray  ?  The  only  person  in  the 
house  that 's  got  a  head  on  her  shoulders  !  What  does 
everybody  mean  by  leaving  me  here  alone  ?  Not  that 
I  'm  not  glad  to  see  you,  Laurie,  my  boy,  but  it  's  a 
brisk  little  woman  who  can  trot  about,  and  make 
things  comfortable,  that  a  man  needs  most  when  he 
comes  to  be  where  I  am.  Goin'  to  the  ball,  eh  ?  Dropped 
in  to  show  me  your  fine  new  uniform,  have  you  ?  Be 
gad,  you  're  a  good-looking  fellow,  sir,  if  I  do  say  it. 
A  figure  like  mine  when  I  was  your  age.  Make  my 
respects  to  his  Excellency,  the  President,  and  say  I 
would  wait  on  him  to-night— but—  Eve,  Eve,  I  say ! 
is  my  supper  never  comin'  ? " 

While  Laurence  in  his  awkward  way  attempted  t6 
do  for  his  father  the  things  he  had  seen  Eve  accom 
plish  with  so  light  a  touch,  old  Chloe,  carrying  a  tray, 
hurried  into  the  room. 

"  Thank  the  Lawd,  you  're  here,  Marse  Laurie,"  she 
exclaimed,  then  added  in  a  tone  meant  for  his  ear 
alone  :  "  We  ain't  dared  let  old  master  know  yet." 

"  My  mother — she  is  ill  ? "  he  said  in  the  same  under 
tone,  struck  with  foreboding  by  her  somber  air. 

"  Oh,  sir,  you  have  n't  heard  ?  And  we  have  been 
sending  everywhere  to  find  you.  Step  outside  in  the 
entry,  sir,  till  I  give  old  master  his  food,  and  I  '11  tell 
you  all." 

"I  will  go  to  her  room  at  once,"  he  said  impa 
tiently. 

"  No,  sir ;  please  not  now,  Marse  Laurie.  Some  one 's 
in  there  you  would  n't  like  to  meet.  Oh,  honey,  for 
Gawd's  sake,  don't  let  poor  old  master  know  till  he 's 
had  his  supper  and  night's  rest." 


44  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUKY 

Despite  her  whispered  pleadings,  Laurence  went 
out  and  strode  across  the  hall  to  his  mother's  door.  It 
was  locked,  but  in  answer  to  his  knock  a  strange,  grim 
woman  came  out  to  meet  him. 

"  She's  quite  ready  now,  captain,  and  looking  beau 
tiful,"  said  the  functionary,  pursing  her  lips  with  pro 
fessional  pride.  "  Twenty  years  younger,  anybody  'd 
say,  and  a  treat  to  see  her  smile." 

"  Marse  Laurie,  dear,  I  wanted  to  spare  you  this," 
exclaimed  the  old  slave-woman,  hobbling  in  pursuit 
of  him. 

"  When  did  it  occur  ? "  he  asked  in  a  voice  that  did 
not  seem  his  own. 

"  We  don't  know  exactly,  honey.  My  poor  lady  had 
hot  words  with  Miss  Eve,  and  ordered  her  out  of  the 
house.  After  Miss  Eve  left,  my  mistress  came  in  here 
and  told  me  to  keep  away.  'Bout  an  hour  later,  when 
old  master  told  me  to  call  her  for  a  game  of  cribbage, 
I  found  her  lying  half  across  the  bed.  She  must  have 
thrown  herself  down  to  cry.  She  could  n't  ha'  lived 
without  Miss  Eve,  poor  dear.  I  could  ha'  told  her  that. 
We  sent  for  the  doctors,  but 't  was  some  time  before 
we  got  'em  here.  'T  was  the  heart,  they  said.  There 
war  n't  anything  earthly  could  ha'  saved  her.  But 
don't  you  think  we  did  n't  try  to  find  you,  honey— for 
we  did." 

Laurence,  shaking  the  affectionate  old  creature  off, 
went  inside  and  closed  the  door. 


IV 


RS.  WARRINER'S  maid  and  household 
had  never  found  their  mistress  more 
hard  to  please  than  on  the  day  suc 
ceeding  her  kettledrum.  Lucilla  had 
slept  ill,  awakened  late,  gone  out  for 
an  early  airing  in  her  sedan-chair,  had  refused  to  see 
inquiring  friends,  and  been  pettish  with  her  mama. 

When,  at  three  o'clock,  dinner  was  announced,  the 
lady  was  in  her  Joseph  with  her  hair  down  about  her 
ears,  reading  a  book  of  poems,  and  declining  all  food 
save  a  cup  of  bohea  and  two  little  tarts  of  the  variety 
known  as  maids  of  honor,  in  the  construction  of 
which  Mrs.  Warriner's  cook  was  not  excelled.  This 
light  refection  was  served  in  her  own  room,  and 
immediately  afterward  Madam  Chester  announced 
(through  the  keyhole,  for  the  tiff  between  the  two 
ladies  was  still  on)  that,  since  her  daughter  preferred 
to  keep  herself  so  close,  she  presumed  there  was  no 
objection  to  her  taking  the  chariot  and  pair  for  the 
remainder  of  the  day. 

"None  whatever,"  said  Lucilla,  opening  the  door 
far  enough  to  exhibit  the  tip  of  her  little  nose..  "  I 
had  not  intended  going  out,  and  I  hope  you  will  enjoy 
your  drive." 

"  And  find  my  child  in  a  better  temper  when  I  come 

45 


48  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

back  from  it!"  supplemented  the  dowager,  briskly. 
"  I  '11  vow,  Lucilla,  you  are  growing  more  like  your 
poor  father  every  day.  Surely  it  was  not  from  me 
that  you  got  this  habit  of  seeking  your  own  conve 
nience,  and  not  allowing  any  one  around  you  to  say 
their  soul 's  their  own—  " 

"Will  you  not  tell  me  this,  too,  when  you  come 
back,  mama?"  asked  Lucilla,  angelically  meek,  but 
still  holding  the  door  on  the  chink,  and  determined 
not  to  yield  it,  at  the  risk  of  an  hour-long  lecture. 

"  Lucilla,  you  are  sadly  wanting  in  the  respect  due 
a  parent.  But  if  you  will  just  let  me  tell  you  about 
that  chit  of  a  laundry-maid  of  yours,  whom  I  caught 
flirting  with  the  footman—  " 

"  When  you  come  back,  mama,"  persisted  the  lady 
of  the  house. 

Madam  Chester  flounced  off  in  a  pet,  which,  how 
ever,  disappeared  as  by  magic  when  she  found  herself 
installed  upon  the  brocaded  cushions  of  the  chariot, 
with  a  coachman  in  front  and  two  footmen  at  her 
back.  What  would  the  Albany  people  who  had 
known  her  in  her  pinched  days  say,  could  they  see 
her  now?  And,  as  luck  had  it,  no  sooner  did  the 
shining  carriage  with  its  champing  bays  and  stately 
servitors  turn  into  the  Bowery  Road,  and  while 
madam  was  in  the  act  of  bowing  and  smiling  to 
another  private  equipage  as  fine,  than  she  espied 
a  lady  from  her  native  city,  gazing  at  her  from 
the  shabby  depths  of  a  hackney-coach,  wherein  the 
stranger  had  been  well  content  to  view  the  fashion 
able  drive. 

Then  who  so  radiant,  so  condescending,  as  the 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  47 

widow  Warriner's  mama?  Madam  Chester,  set 
tling  her  hood  and  tippet,  called  to  the  coachman  to 
go  slow,  following  up  her  first  bow  to  her  old  ac 
quaintance  by  a  series  of  nods  whenever  the  hackney- 
coach,  taking  heart  of  grace,  ventured  to  move  up 
and  be  abreast  the  grander  vehicle.  The  only  draw 
back  to  the  dowager's  now  complete  satisfaction  was 
the  fact  that  she  could  not  fully  distinguish  the  ex 
pression  of  the  Albany  dame's  countenance  without 
putting  on  the  huge  silver-rimmed  distance-spectacles 
that  had  been  imported  for  her  from  London.  In 
those  days  a  self-respecting  woman  who  was  getting 
along  in  life  preferred  to  be  blind  in  public,  rather  than 
disfigure  her  appearance  by  such  a  pair  of  frights ! 

But,  all  told,  one  lady  from  Albany  impressed  by 
the  splendor  of  another,  resident  in  New  York,  could 
not  entirely  dissipate  the  cares  attendant  upon 
Madam  Chester's  position  as  owner  and  chaperon  of 
the  chief  toast  and  richest  heiress  of  the  time.  She 
could  not  help  associating  her  daughter's  whimsical 
humor  of  to-day  with  some  complication  arising  from 
one  of  the  troublesome  sex.  And  the  mere  hint  of 
such  a  thing  gave  her  an  agitating  pang. 

With  all  the  strength  of  her  dominating  nature 
the  mother  had  tried  to  disincline  her  child  to  a 
second  venture  in  matrimony.  In  this  she  was  at 
least  consistent,  since  't  was  well  known  in  Albany 
circles  how  Madam  Chester  had  herself  refused  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Kershaw,  a  suitor  of  her  girlhood's  days, 
who  had  wooed  her  twice  within  the  year  after  Mr. 
Chester's  demise;  not  to  speak  of  others,  less  im 
passioned  than  the  divine. 


48  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

No !  Madam  Chester  was,  and  had  long  been,  out 
of  conceit  of  the  married  state  for  women !  Let  all 
who  wished  a  yoke  put  their  heads  into  it.  The  con 
stant  presence  in  the  house  of  an  imperative,  unrea 
sonable,  illogical,  irritable  masculine,  sanctioned  by 
Providence  to  cross,  thwart,  contradict,  and  peck  at 
the  so-called  partner  of  his  privileges,  had  been  ex 
perienced  once  by  Lucilla  and  herself.  That  should 
suffice.  To  her  mind,  Lucilla's  present  position, 
brilliant,  free  as  air,  surrounded,  feted,  flattered,  and 
on  the  very  top  of  the  social  wave,  was  not  to  be 
exchanged  for  any  other  so  far  in  sight. 

The  risk  was  that  her  child  would  let  herself  be 
cajoled  or  gossiped  into  a  change  of  state.  Madam 
Chester  had  no  patience  with  that  universal  hue 
and  cry  about  whom  a  widow  will  take  next,  directly 
her  black  is  lightened.  In  order  to  keep  Lucilla's 
thoughts  composed  on  this  subject,  had  not  she  made 
a  point  of  resurrecting  the  late  Mr.  Warriner— keep 
ing  him  and  his  edicts  continually  before  the  house 
hold  and  its  mistress?  Really,  one  would  think  it 
was  she,  not  Lucilla,  who  systematically  mourned  the 
departed !  Something  in  Lucilla's  manner  yesterday, 
during  and  after  the  kettledrum,  had  excited  her 
alarm.  Of  all  the  men  present  there  were  but  two 
for  whom  those  blushes,  that  girlish  tremor,— ill  con 
cealed  from  her  mother,— could  have  been  assumed. 
Which  of  these  two  was  it  ? 

Not  Arnold  Warriner,  Madam  Chester  hoped  and 
prayed.  The  mere  fact  that  he  was  to  inherit  the 
estate  in  the  event  of  Lucilla's  death  made  the  mother 
inimical  to  him.  She  fancied  him  treacherous  when- 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOEK  49 

ever  he  asked  how  Lucilla  did.  And  if  he  now 
wanted  to  marry  her  child,  was  it  not  the  same  as 
acknowledging  that  Lucilla's  good  health  was  his 
despair?  Of  course  he  coveted  the  money  and  the 
rule  of  the  Manor  and  to  take  the  control  of  things 
out  of  Lucilla's  (and  Madam  Chester's)  hands.  Trust 
that  kind  of  a  smooth,  specious  fellow  for  plotting 
and  planning  for  his  own  advancement ! 

Besides,— last,  not  least,— had  not  Warriner  always 
coolly  ignored  the  dowager,  and  once  trodden  upon 
her  spaniel's  toe  ? 

There  was  no  assurance  that  Lucilla  really  favored 
him.  She  was  so  very  outspoken  in  his  praise,  and 
let  him  attend  her  everywhere.  Was  there  not  more 
danger  in  the  direction  of  Captain  Laurence  Hope  ? 

Of  all  the  offensive  class  of  eligible  young  men, 
Madam  Chester  had  least  fault  to  find  with  Hope. 

Once,  long  ago,  there  had  been  a  ball,  when  Mr. 
Christopher  Hope,  Laurence's  father,  had  declared 
her  to  be  the  most  bewitching  minikin  in  the  room. 
"  Bewitching  minikin " !  She  had  worn  her  pink 
tabbinet.  And  afterward,  at  the  supper,  he  had 
pledged  her  in  a  glass  of  Constantia  wine.  People 
began  to  say— but  it  ended  there  ! 

Next  year  he  had  married  Laurence's  mother,  and 
she  had  remained  single  for  three  years  longer.  She 
always  maintained  Mr.  Christopher  Hope  to  be  the 
finest  beau  of  his  day.  Now  he  was  old  and  poor 
and  a  cripple  in  his  chair,  and  his  wife  had  gone  all 
to  pieces  in  her  looks.  Much  better  that  things  had 
turned  out  as  they  did;  but  still,  Madam  Chester 
would  always  remember  "  bewitching  minikin." 


50  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

Laurence  Hope  was  certainly  handsome  as  a  picture, 
and  better  than  the  rest  of  her  child's  hangers-on.  If 
it  were  he  for  whom  Lucilla  had  blushed  and  palpi 
tated,  Madam  Chester  might  even  partially  condone 
the  folly;  but  it  would  never  do  to  encourage  him 
too  far.  The  Hopes  were  as  poor  as  church-mice,  a 
family  of  "has-beens  "  on  the  verge  of  ruin.  It  would 
be  really  nothing  of  a  match  should  Lucilla— but 
of  course  Lucilla  would  n't.  Madam  Chester  settled 
that. 

Thus  scheming,  speculating,  dreaming  old  dreams, 
and  casting  horoscopes  for  the  confusion  of  young 
men,  the  dowager  rolled  on  her  way  through  the 
pleasant  rural  countryside  along  what  is  now  Third 
Avenue,  crossing  Murray  Hill  on  the  line  of  Lexing 
ton  Avenue,  and  bearing  westward  to  McGowan's 
Pass,  now  the  upper  end  of  Central  Park. 

Here,  on  such  a  day  of  jocund  spring,  met  and 
crossed  and  overtook  each  other  the  equipages  of 
men  and  women  of  first  distinction  in  the  temporary 
seat  of  government. 

The  President,  out  behind  six  horses,  acknowledged 
all  salutations  with  a  courtly  bow.  The  Vice-Presi 
dent  and  Mrs.  Adams  had  driven  over  from  their  seat 
at  Richmond  Hill,  near  Lispenard's  Meadows,  where 
Varick  and  Charlton  streets  now  intersect. 

There  were  the  Secretary  of  War  and  jolly,  portly 
Mrs.  Knox,  whose  brusque  speeches  and  original  do 
ings  were  quoted  and  gossiped  about  everywhere ; 
Sir  William  Temple  beside  his  lady,  nee  Bowdoin  of 
Boston,  one  of  the  chief  dinner-givers  of  the  town; 
the  Secretary  and  Mrs.  Jay,  whose  still  existing 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  51 

supper-list  records  the  fine  flower  of  that  society; 
Colonel  Alexander  Hamilton  with  his  spouse,  who 
joined  to  the  graces  all  the  candor  and  simplicity  of 
the  American  wife,  said  M.  Brissot  de  Warville  ;  Mrs. 
Peter  van  Brugh  Livingston,  the  Livingstons  of  Cler- 
mont  and  Queen  Street,  the  New  Jersey  Livingstons, 
M.  and  Mme.  de  la  Forest,  the  Clintons,  Duanes, 
Izards,  Bayards,  Keans,  Van  Zandts,  Van  Rensselaers, 
Gerrys,  Langdons,  Edgars,  McCombs,  Kings,  Clark- 
sons,  Varicks,  Bishop  Provost  and  wife,  Whites, 
Beekmans,  Ludlows,  Bards,  Rutherfurds,  Van  Cort- 
landts,  Montgomerys,  Lynches,  Fishes — a  goodly 
company,  a  representative  or  two  of  each  of  which 
families  always  helped  to  swell  society's  tide. 

Among  the  titled  ladies  of  the  republican  court, 
besides  Lady  Temple,  were  the  widowed  Lady  Ster 
ling,  her  daughter,  Lady  Mary  Watts,  and  the  more 
famous  and  fascinating  Lady  Kitty  Duer. 

Lady  Kitty  had  been  ten  years  married  to  Colonel 
William  Duer,  but  her  charm  and  vogue  were  not  in 
the  least  exhausted,  in  the  estimation  of  her  towns 
people.  Only  the  year  before  she  had  played  minis 
tering  angel  to  Baron  Steuben,  when  that  hero  and 
Secretary  Jay  were  both  wounded  by  stones  thrown 
in  the  people's  riot  against  the  New  York  medicos. 
Whenever  Lady  Kitty  went  abroad  all  eyes  followed 
her  with  pride. 

Lady  Christina  Griffen  took  the  air  beside  her  digni 
fied  husband,  the  president  of  the  old  Congress.  The 
Spanish  minister,  D'Yrujo,  was  away,  but  the  Marquise 
de  Moustier,  who  wore  ear-rings  and  red-heeled  shoes, 
sat  with  Mme.  de  Brehan,  opposite  that  lady's  black 


52  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUKY 

page,  who  nursed  her  monkey  on  his  knees.  The  Dutch 
envoy,  M.  Berckel,  brought  his  pretty  daughter,  one 
of  the  season's  belles.  Young  Frank  Berckel  was 
seen,  perched  upon  the  box  of  a  mail-phaeton  so  high 
as  to  have  been  caricatured  in  public  print.  There 
was  extant  a  representation  of  the  passage  beneath 
it  of  a  low  pony-trap  belonging  to  the  good  physician, 
Dr.  John  Charlton,  long  familiar  to  the  public  eye  in 
his  red  coat  and  cocked  hat,  accompanied  by  his  aged 
negro  groom. 

Among  the  other  notabilities  whose  appearance 
made  memorable  a  May  drive  in  1789  were  Chan 
cellor  Livingston,  Burr,  Steuben,  Brissot  de  Warville, 
Gardoqui,  Richard  Henry  Lee,  Arthur  Lee,  General 
Henry  Lee,  Schuyler,  Mason,  Fisher  Ames,  Butler, 
Armstrong,  De  Peyster,  Walton,  Cadwalader,  Richard 
Harison,  AJsop,  Rutledge,  Edmund  Randolph- 
many  a  giant  in  debate  and  master  of  statecraft  who 
helped  to  make  our  nation  what  it  is.  Match  me  this 
gathering  in  Central  Park  or  Riverside  Drive  to-day  ! 

On  and  on,  serene  in  her  borrowed  plumage,  passed 
Madam  Chester.  So  exhilarated  was  she  by  good 
company,  fine  clothes,  and  dazzling  sunshine,  it  never 
occurred  to  her  to  notice  that  from  the  cortege  of 
golden  youth  deployed  around  her  were  missing  both 
Arnold  Warriner  and  Laurence  Hope. 

No  sooner  had  Lucilla's  horses  and  their  burden 
trotted  away  from  her  front  door  than  that  languid 
lady  sprang  from  her  easy-chair,  ran  to  the  windows, 
pulled  back  the  chintz  curtains,  and  rang  for  her 
maids. 

Her  hair  dressed  over  a  beautiful  crape  cushion, 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOKK  53 

quick  as  she  could  set  her  slow-moving  ebon  damsels 
into  action,  open  flew  drawers  and  wardrobes,  till  the 
room  was  strewn  with  gowns  and  falbalas,  succes 
sively  presented  for  approbation  to  their  owner. 

In  vain  did  Saba  and  Myrtilla  hold  out  the  choicest 
treasures  of  her  wearing-apparel.  Petticoat  and 
paduasoy,  tuckers,  frills,  and  neckerchiefs,  failed  to 
attract.  She  would  not  even  smile  upon  her  new 
lustring  the  color  of  a  pigeon's  neck,  shot  with  rose 
and  lavender  and  blue,  like  gleams  of  dawn  in  an 
early-morning  sky — the  one  mama  had  said  Mr. 
Warriner  would  not  approve  of  till  after  the  6th  of 
June,  when  the  two  calendar  years  of  her  mourning 
would  have  expired.  But  Lucilla  did  not  discard 
this  because  it  was  too  gay.  The  sad  fact  was,  she 
wanted  something  gayer. 

"  Look,  Myrtilla,  on  the  top  shelf  in  the  north  cup 
board,"  said  the  widow,  finally,  endeavoring  to  subdue 
the  faint  tremble  of  exultation  in  her  voice.  "You 
will  find  there  a  pale-blue  sarsenet.  'T  is  of  the  fashion 
of  two  years  back,  and  I  dare  say  I  shall  look  a  bar 
barous  fright  in  it.  But  I  Ve  a  mind  to  try  whether  "— 
here  she  paused  and  invented  a  daring  flight— "  whe 
ther  I  Ve  grown  stout  in  growing  old." 

Cunning  Lucilla !  Well  she  knew  that  the  girlish 
outlines  of  her  rounded  form  had  but  taken  on  more 
stately  beauty  since  her  emancipation. 

"  Mistis  looks  lovely  in  blue,"  said  Myrtilla,  pres 
ently.  "  If  mistis  was  to  put  on  her  new  neckerchief 
of  satin-striped  gauze  !  Run,  Saba  !  what  you  mean 
by  staring,  child  ?  Run  fetch  mistis'  box  of  necker 
chiefs.  There,  now,  1 7clare  to  gracious,  it 's  too  pretty 


64  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUKY 

for  anything !  Would  n't  think  mistis  was  over  eigh 
teen,  to  look  at  her.  What  flowers  for  the  belt,  mistis  f 
That  bunch  o'  white  star-flowers  that  came  yesterday 
with  a  gentleman's  card  tied  onto  it?  Mistis  took 
the  card  and  put  it  in  her  lacquer  cabinet.  The 
flowers  are  fresh,  mistis  took  such  good  care  of  'em." 

"It  is  not  your  business  to  know  what  I  do  with 
things,  Myrtilla,"  flashed  out  the  lady,  sharply.  "  But 
you  may  bring  me  the  nosegay  of  which  you  speak. 
I  believe  I  left  it  on  the  stand  in  my  dressing-room 
by  the  open  window." 

"Found  one  of  them  posies  under  her  pillow  when 
I  made  her  bed,"  whispered  Myrtilla  to  Saba,  as  she 
passed  that  handmaiden  by.  "  Reckon  mistis  thinks 
a  heap  more  of  'em  than  she  's  willing  to  let  on." 

With  all  their  warm,  color-loving  natures,  the  black 
damsels  had  enjoyed  the  fairy-tale  of  their  lady's 
translation  into  gay  young  life.  The  whole  house 
hold  flourished  and  waxed  fat  in  these  days  of  gener 
ous  living,  abundant  company,  and  interchange  with 
the  social  world.  But  the  two  lady's-maids  had  about 
made  up  their  minds  that  it  was  time  "  mistis  "  was  let 
ting  the  sentimental  element  take  possession  of  her 
life.  Eagerly  they  now  watched  for  straws  to  show 
which  way  the  wind  blew ! 

And  at  last  Lucilla  stands  before  her  toilet-table, 
surveying  her  image  in  a  round  mirror  surmounted 
by  a  gilded  swan.  From  the  darkling  depths  smiles 
back  at  her  a  vision  of  perfected  womanhood !  The 
blue  sarsenet,  whatever  its  deficiencies  in  mode,  was 
delightfully  becoming.  From  the  soft  folds  of  Italian 
gauze  crossed  over  her  bust  rose  a  throat  white  as 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOEK  55 

cream,  and  above,  a  rosy,  happy  face.  In  her  belt, 
close  to  the  beatings  of  her  heart,  nestled  a  bunch  of 
white  narcissus.  But  something  was  yet  lacking. 

"  Quick,  Myrtilla !  My  patch-box—though  I  shall 
wear  only  one  to-day." 

The  black  atom,  moistened  upon  the  tip  of  her 
tongue,  was  for  some  time  poised  on  her  finger  at  a 
little  distance  from  her  face.  Whether  to  place  it  on 
chin  or  cheek,  that  was  the  question.  In  the  end,  she 
remembered  what  the  "  Book  of  the  Toy  let "  said : 
"  A  beauty-spot  upon  the  temple  giveth  a  sedate  air  " ; 
and,  with  a  sigh,  clapped  the  tiny  thing  above  her 
left  eyebrow. 

"  Now,  Myrtilla,  since  I  am  tired  of  trying  on,  you 
may  go,  and  I  will  sit  down  as  I  am  and  do  a  sprig 
of  my  embroidery.  By  and  by  I  will  call  you  to 
change  me  to  my  silver- gray." 

"  Mistis  must  n't  change.  Mistis  must  keep  like  she 
is  now,  and  let  all  the  beaus  that  call  see  her ! "  pleaded 
Myrtilla,  genuinely  eager. 

"  No,  no,  no.  Of  course  not.  How  can  you  think 
of  such  a  thing?  I  shall  wear  no  colors  till  after — " 
The  Gth  of  June  occurred  to  her,  and  she  hastened 
to  put  the  dismal  thought  away.  Certainly  there 
would  be  no  harm  in  remaining  dressed  as  she  was 
till  nearly  five  o'clock.  He  would  not  be  likely  to 
step  through  the  garden  gate  till  five. 

She  sat  on  alone,  worked  two  sprigs,  knocked  over 
a  china  shepherdess,  cut  the  cards  to  see  whether 
he  would  come  or  not,  then  took  up  a  copy  of 
Pope's  "Essay  on  Man,"  and  read,  to  compose  her 
mind. 


66  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

Inevitable  result ! 

Lucilla  was  awakened  by  the  clock  on  the  landing 
striking  five  vigorous  strokes.  Alarmed,  she  sprang 
to  her  feet.  The  house  was  quiet.  Below-stairs  her 
indulged  servants  were  amusing  themselves  in  their 
own  way.  Lucilla,  never  stopping  to  think  what 
gown  she  had  on,  ran  down  the  broad  steps  with  their 
railing  of  carved  mahogany,  across  the  Turkey  rugs 
spread  on  the  polished  boards  of  the  lower  hall,  past 
some  tapestries  of  Gobelins  that  she  thought  ugly 
things,  into  the  drawing-room,  where  the  women  had 
just  been  putting  fresh  flowers  and  boughs  of  blos 
soming  shrubs  into  every  vase,  making  a  carnival  of 
spring. 

No  one  there !  Breathing  easier,  she  went  out  into 
the  garden  in  the  rear. 

That,  too,  was  empty.  Lucilla,  trying  to  walk  as 
befitted  the  mistress  of  the  mansion,  stepped  down  a 
gravel  path,  on  either  side  of  which,  under  a  verdant 
canopy  of  leaves,  box  hedges  shut  off  borders  filled 
with  bushes  in  recent  leaf  and  bud,  and  the  flamboy 
ant  flowers  of  the  Northern  spring. 

Since  it  was  the  family's  habit  to  retire  to  their 
seat  on  the  Hudson  with  the  first  warm  days  of  June, 
the  gardener's  orders  were  to  decorate  these  beds  and 
parterres  with  whatever  made  April  and  May  most 
beautiful.  Thus  had  he  delayed  the  bloom  of  tulips 
and  jonquils,  and  hastened  that  of  lilies-of-the-valley 
and  bleeding-hearts.  The  result  was  as  if  the  earth 
had  broken  up  in  flowers.  And  beyond  the  trees, 
at  the  lower  end,  flowed  the  silver  current  of  the 
broad  river;  beyond  that  again  rose  the  far  green 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOEK  67 

heights  in  New  Jersey,  more  beautiful  only  in  their 
many-hued  garments  of  October. 

In  pleasant  proximity  to  the  water  stood  a  kiosk 
of  latticework,  covered  with  thick  foliage,  in  which 
a  bench  and  table  offered  repose  to  the  passer 
by.  Here  Lucilla  dropped  into  a  seat,  her  fears  and 
coquetries  merged  suddenly  and  irresistibly  into  the 
thrilling  realization  of  her  first  passion.  She  could 
struggle  against  it  no  longer.  She  did  love  him,  de 
votedly,  tenderly.  For  his  sake  she  would  as  lief 
abandon  all  her  state  and  riches  to  follow  him  like  a 
beggar-maid  throughout  the  world. 

Since  she  might  not  put  away  these  riches,  what 
joy,  what  glory,  to  lavish  them  on  him !  She  had 
heard  of  the  failing  fortunes  of  his  family,  of  the  ne 
cessity  upon  him  to  deny  himself  many  things  enjoyed 
by  other  men  of  his  rank  and  place ;  and  her  chief  fear 
was  lest  these  circumstances  might  continue  to  keep 
him  at  a  distance.  During  a  restless  night  she  had 
convinced  herself  that  they  alone  were  accountable  for 
his  brusque,  almost  rude  manner  at  their  parting  the 
day  before. 

The  revealer  of  sweet  secrets  called  intuition  had 
assured  her  that  Laurence's  heart  was  really  hers. 
It  could  be,  then,  only  his  poverty  that  kept  him  from 
declaring  himself.  And  to  Lucilla  that  seemed  such 
a  little,  little  thing.  What  were  her  youth,  her 
charms,  her  fervor,  if  she  could  not  conquer  that  ? 

A  man's  step  upon  the  gravel. 

Lucilla  clasped  her  hands  in  a  supreme  effort  to 
hold  herself  in  restraint.  With  her  breath  shortened 
by  the  quick  pulsing  of  her  heart,  against  which  his 


68  THE  CIRCLE  OP  A  CENTURY 

flowers  rested,  her  blushes  rising,  her  eyes  deeper 
with  feeling  than  any  one  had  ever  before  seen  them, 
she  turned  to  meet  her  lover,  and  beheld,  instead— 
Arnold  Warriner ! 

Cruel  disappointment !  Her  voice  sounded  thin  as 
she  cried  out  to  him : 

"You  here?  I  gave  no  orders.  I  wanted  to  be 
alone." 

"  I  felt  sure  of  it,  sweet  cousin,"  he  said  placatingly ; 
"  and,  believe  me,  I  should  never  have  followed  up  the 
hint  Pompey  gave  about  his  mistress  being  out  of 
doors  had  I  not  thought  you  would  be  inclined  for  a 
little  chat  with  me." 

"  Chat?  I  am  tired  of  chat !  Tired  of  gossips  and 
prating  tongues,  and  of  my  house  being  a  thorough 
fare  for  idle  people ! "  she  exclaimed,  with  scant 
civility. 

Arnold  bore  it  well.    With  a  slight  shrug,  he  said : 

"  I  had  thought  my  late  cousin's  home  was  open  to 
his  nearest  kinsman ;  but  it  seems  I  was  overtrustful 
of  Mrs.  Warriner's  hospitality ;  and,  if  it  so  pleases 
her,  I  shall  go." 

"  No,  no,  Arnold ;  stay  till  I  have  asked  your  par 
don  for  my  pettishness.  I  slept  little  last  night,  and 
have  had  much  to  worry  me.  I  sent  mama  off  in  the 
chariot  in  order  to  have  a  long  afternoon  alone.  If  you 
must  go  now,  come  back  and  sup  with  us  later,  and 
give  me  my  revenge  at  piquet,"  she  concluded,  with  a 
little  too  much  cordiality. 

Warriner  fixed  his  eyes  upon  her  as  if  to  read  her 
soul. 

"You  want  to  be  rid  of  me,  Lucilla?  Me,  who 
have—" 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  59 

"  Oh,  please  don't !"  she  interrupted,  detecting  with 
dismay  a  sentimental  cadence  in  his  tones.  "  Be  con 
tent  that  you  have  made  me  feel  ashamed  of  my  bad 
manners.  I  suppose  the  country  mouse  can't  stand 
living  with  the  town  mice.  At  any  rate,  I  am  out  of 
tune  with  people." 

Although  she  seemed  desirous  to  make  amends, 
Arnold  saw  the  young  woman  was  unhinged,  nervous, 
impatient  of  interruption.  For  the  first  time,  he 
owned  to  himself  that  this  might  mean  preoccupation 
with  thoughts  of  another  man,  and  a  wave  of  jealous 
resentment  swept  over  him.  Could  it  be  that  Bel- 
lingham's  babble  of  the  night  before  had  foundation 
in  reality?  That  while  he,  Arnold,  had  been  daw 
dling,  deliberating  in  the  primrose  path,  Hope  had 
marched  boldly  up  to  the  citadel  and  taken  it  by 
storm  ? 

Yet  never,  to  Arnold's  knowledge,  had  the  two  met 
in  private.  Hope's  opportunities  were  those  of  every 
other  caller  in  the  discreet  Lucilla's  drawing-room. 
When  they  had  been  seen  in  company  together,  Hope 
had,  rather  than  otherwise,  kept  his  distance  from  the 
widow.  The  thing  was  incredible.  Arnold  Warriner 
outwitted,  outstripped,  made  to  feel  himself  a  boy  in 
the  art  of  which  he  was  passed  grand  master— the 
winning  of  feminine  hearts  ? 

"  Rumor  has  it  that  you  are  in  tune— melodiously 
in  tune— with  at  least  one  person  of  your  acquain 
tance,"  he  said,  not  pausing  to  choose  his  words,  his 
eyes  flashing,  his  handsome  mouth  wreathed  with  a 
curl  of  satire.  "  But  I  can  hardly  believe  that  the 
woman  who  has  the  honor  to  support  my  family's 


60  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

name  and  place  could  stoop  from  her  eminence  to 
care  for  a — " 

"  Take  care,  cousin,"  put  in  Lucilla,  now  more  under 
control  than  he.  Her  light  laugh  stung  him. 

"  I  tell  you  it  is  a  scoundrel  you  are  permitting  to 
toy  with  your  fancy,"  he  blurted  out,  beside  himself. 
"  A  man  doubly  false  if  he  has  let  you  think  you  rule 
his  heart." 

"  Whatever  he  is,— for  I  shall  not  deny  that  I  know 
to  whom  you  would  allude,"  she  said  haughtily,— 
"  Captain  Hope  will  soon  be  here  to  answer  for  him 
self." 

"You  are  expecting  him— him?"  exclaimed  War- 
riner,  opening  wide  his  eyes.  "  Is  it  possible  you 
alone  are  unaware  of  the  incident  with  which  all  the 
town  is  ringing— the  death  of  both  of  Hope's  parents, 
within  a  few  hours  of  each  other?  But  everybody 
does  not  know,  as  I  do,  the  fact  of  his  elopement  last 
evening  with  Eve  Watson,  his  mother's  pretty  ser 
ving-girl,  which  must  have  precipitated  the  attack 
from  which  the  poor  lady  died." 

"  It  is  false — false  !  "  cried  poor  Lucilla,  starting 
electrically,  and  turning  deathly  pale.  "Did  you 
come  here  to  torture  me?" 

"  Heaven  knows  I  did  not !  I  came  because  I  knew 
that  your  mother  had  gone  abroad  alone,  and  I 
wanted  the  opportunity  of  a  private  talk  with  you  on 
my  own  account.  But  I  cannot  let  you— were  there 
no  feeling  on  my  part,  my  relation  to  you  would  not 
permit  me  to  let  you — be  unwarned  about  this  man. 
Oh,  Lucilla,  why  did  I  allow  matters  to  go  so  far  ? " 

"Speak— tell    me— give    me   proofs!"   she    cried 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  61 

wildly,  and  then  dropped  exhausted  on  her  bench, 
burying  her  head  in  her  hands  on  the  table  before 
her. 

Her  brain  seemed  about  to  burst  as  she  listened  to 
his  tale  of  what  Bellingham  and  he  had  witnessed 
the  day  before  in  the  dusk  in  front  of  Mrs.  Pips's  shop. 
To  follow  up  the  disclosure  by  giving  Hope  the  bene 
fit  of  a  doubt  did  not  occur  to  her.  In  that  moment 
she  was  only  a  loving  woman,  chilled,  tricked,  scorned, 
by  the  man  she  idolized. 

In  a  flash  came  back  to  her  Hope's  emotion  at  her 
suggestion  of  Eve.  With  this  certainty,  reason  could 
have  no  power  to  guide  her.  As  impetuously  as  she 
had  loved,  she  resented  the  slight  he  had  put  upon 
her.  To  go  to  that  low-born  girl  after  leaving  her— 
after  stopping,  on  the  way,  to  send  her  the  flowers  so 
fondly  treasured !  With  a  movement  of  disgust  she 
tore  the  starry  blossoms  from  below  her  heart  and 
dashed  them  upon  the  gravel.  Into  this  tumult  of 
feeling  entered  no  sympathy  for  the  domestic  afflic 
tion  that  had  overtaken  her  false  lover.  She  could 
feel  only  that  he  had  deliberately  appropriated  her 
love  whilst  himself  the  lover  of  another  woman,  and 
had  had  the  misfortune  to  be  found  out.  Good 
heavens !  how  could  she  have  thought  of  this  creature  ? 

Warriner,  although  he  had  a  man's  natural  antipa 
thy  to  scenes  in  which  an  hysterical  woman  takes  the 
leading  role,  held  his  ground  pertinaciously  and  with 
considerable  tact.  He  saw  that  this  was  no  time  to 
press  his  own  claims  upon  her  notice.  Rather  would 
he  wait  until  an  opportunity  might  offer  to  soothe 
her  sorrow  and  make  her  feel  his  virtues  in  compari- 


62  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

son  with  Hope's  iniquity.  Therefore,  when,  after  a 
burst  of  crying,  she  lifted  her  tear-stained  face  toward 
him,  Warriner  was  gazing  at  her  gently,  forbearingly, 
as  one  does  at  a  grieved  and  disappointed  child.  Lu- 
cilla  was  conscious  of  a  sense  of  gratitude.  Amid 
her  confusion  of  wounded  pride  and  slain  love,  it  was 
good  to  feel  that  some  one  wanted  to  shelter  her  from 
evil-doers  and  lift  her  up  again  to  her  pedestal  among 
women  revered  and  honored. 

"  Forgive  me,  Arnold,  that  I  was  so  cross  with  you. 
You  are  my*  kind  brother,  and  I  thank  you  for  your 
sympathy.  Let  us  speak  no  more  of  one  unworthy 
to  be  mentioned  between  us." 

"  But,  cousin,"  answered  the  suave  captain,  "  let 
us  give  the  devil  his  due.  Even  if  Hope — whom  I 
must  regard  as  a  monstrous  simpleton— had  prom 
ised  to  attend  you  here,  how  could  he  in  decency 
have  done  so  to-day?  I  have  heard  that  he  has  re 
turned—has  been  recalled— to  his  home.  Perhaps  he 
has  already  repented  of  last  night's  flitting ;  but—" 

"  Oh,  don't !  I  can't  bear  you  to  speak  of  it  so," 
she  interrupted.  "  If  he  did  repent,  trust  me,  it 
would  not  be  I  who  would  value  so  light  a  love. 
Cousin,"  she  added  drearily,  "  I  need  not  appeal  to 
your  respect  for  me  to  keep  what  you  have  discov 
ered,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  to  yourself.  It  is  my 
part  to  put  Captain  Hope  and  his  affairs  out  of  my 
thoughts  forever ! " 

The  cruel  resolution  was  too  much  for  her.  She 
faltered  and  again  dropped  her  face  into  her  hands 
upon  the  table. 

Arnold  remained  speechless,  immobile,  but  full  of 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  63 

speculation.  He  was  considering  that  esoteric  con 
dition  of  femininity,  old  as  the  hills,  depicted  by  a 
writer  much  later  than  Arnold  Warriner's  date  who 
remarked:  "With  women  there  7s  nothing  between 
two  poles  of  emotion  toward  an  interesting  male 
acquaintance.  ;T  is  either  love  or  hate." 

He  was  filled  with  wonder  at  the  easy  rolling  of 
a  great  stone  from  his  path.  So  far  as  appeared, 
matters  between  Lucilla  and  Hope  had  not  gone  to 
lengths  which  would  leave  on  her  a  lasting  impres 
sion.  After  this,  the  widow  would  not  wish  to  hear 
Hope  spoken  of,  whatever  the  outcome  of  his  affair 
with  the  beautiful  Eve.  Most  lucky  of  all  was  it  that 
the  public  had  not  been  taken  into  confidence.  No 
one  could  positively  aver  that  Lucilla  had  cared  for 
Hope ;  and  it  should  be  Arnold's  task  to  have  a  very 
different  rumor  shortly  spread  abroad ! 

Warriner,  judging  Hope  by  himself,  did  not  doubt 
that  he  had  been  playing  a  double  game — making 
hay  with  pretty  Eve  while  opportunity  offered,  and 
at  the  same  time  plotting  to  win  the  richest  prize 
in  the  matrimonial  market.  As  to  serious  purpose  in 
the  "  elopement,"  Arnold  could  not  impute  to  any 
man  in  Hope's  circumstances  such  lunacy. 

Hope's  present  withdrawal,  through  conventional 
necessity,  from  the  arena  of  love-making,  was  a  god 
send  to  Warriner.  He  had  not  been  able  to  restrain 
an  uncomfortable  fear  that,  if  Hope  chose,  he  could 
yet  smooth  matters  over ;  and  was  haunted  by  doubts 
whether  no  man  living  but  himself  could  step  into  the 
unoccupied  niche  at  Lucilla's  side. 

The  livelong  day,  until  late  afternoon,  Laurence  had 


64  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

sat  like  a  statue  in  the  room  up-stairs,  near  that  which 
contained  the  mortal  remains  of  his  parents. 

Early  in  the  evening  we  last  saw  him,  they  had 
found  Christopher  Hope  sleeping  his  last  sleep  in 
his  bed.  He  never  knew  the  blow  that  had  robbed 
him  of  his  wife. 

And  now  only  Laurence  was  left  of  his  long  line. 
Friends  had  come  and  gone,  but  no  relatives  of  his 
name  were  there  to  mourn  with  him.  It  had  been 
intolerably  slow,  the  passing  of  these  hours  during 
which  he  had  reckoned  up  the  mile-stones  of  his  life 
in  the  old  house,  vainly  sorrowing  because  he  could 
not  recall  things  done  or  left  undone  with  refer 
ence  to  the  two  who  lay  near  him  locked  in  eternal 
silence. 

"When  their  feet  should  have  been  carried  out  from 
it  the  young  man  felt  that  he  would  wish  to  fly  for 
ever  from  the  ghostly  place.  Continually  he  longed 
for  the  light  step  and  gentle  voice  of  Eve.  With  her 
were  associated  the  only  stirrings  of  young  and 
wholesome  life  these  rooms  had  known  since  he 
and  his  brother  had  sported  there  as  boys.  It  had 
been  so  good  to  meet  the  gleam  in  Eve's  eye  respon 
sive  to  his  occasional  bursts  of  youthful  spirit.  He 
recalled  their  whispered  conversations,  their  smo 
thered  laughs,  their  comradeship,  the  fact  that  they 
were  the  only  ones  in  the  house  on  the  hither  side  of 
half  a  century  in  age  ! 

Eve  would  have  known  how  to  answer  the  kind 
inquiries,  the  neighborly  offers,  that  all  day  had  been 
coming  in,  and  that  he  had  repulsed  so  stupidly ;  and 
oh,  how  he  wanted  to  have  with  him  somebody  who 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOEK  65 

had  loved  them— somebody  to  weep  for  him  the  tears 
that  would  not  come  into  his  own  eyes  ! 

But  Eve  did  not  come.  Early  in  the  day  he  had  des 
patched  a  note  to  her,  as  was  her  due,  telling  her  the 
sad  story  of  his  bereavement.  He  had  felt  so  sure  it 
would  bring  her  that  he  did  not  stop  to  consider  what 
might  keep  her  back. 

And  there  was  a  deeper  disappointment  rankling 
in  his  heart.  News  in  that  small  community  flew 
fast,  and  it  was  not  possible  Mrs.  Warriner  had  not 
heard  of  his  misfortune.  Among  all  the  cards  and 
notes  and  offered  sympathies,  there  had  been  none 
from  her.  Could  it  be  that  she  willingly  ignored 
him? 

If  ever  woman  read  man's  heart  in  his  eyes,  she 
must  have  seen,  when  they  parted  yesterday,  that  he 
loved  her — only  her;  and  seeing  this,  she  had  con 
sented  to  make  tryst  with  him.  At  that  very  hour  he 
should  have  been  treading  upon  air  to  lift  the  latch  of 
her  garden  gate,  to  breathe  the  sweet  odors  of  spring 
around  her,  to  own  the  world  with  her  alone  !  And, 
instead,  he  was  waiting  here,  face  to  face  with  grim 
sorrow,  whiling  away  the  leaden  moments  in  con 
straint  and  solitude.  Heaven  !  were  all  women  made 
like  these  two,  who  had  forsaken  him  in  his  first  dark 
hour  of  need  ? 

In  those  days  a  house  of  mourning  was  made  more 
gruesome  by  the  universal  livery  of  Woe  assumed, 
outside  and  in.  The  gloomy  officials  who  had  charge 
of  such  matters  looked  in  upon  the  desolate  young 
man,  asked  for  directions,  and  glided  out  again. 
Chloe,  a  very  Niobe  of  tears,  wept  afresh  every  time 


66  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

she  approached  her  young  master,  and  in  the  effort 
to  restrain  herself  contorted  her  face  so  comically 
that  once  Laurie  laughed  aloud,  making  her  believe 
he  was  following  the  example  of  his  maternal  ances 
tress  darkly  spoken  of  in  the  family  as  "  deranged." 

At  last,  in  despair,  he  opened  a  chink  of  the  heavy 
shutters  at  the  west,  letting  in  a  last  ray  of  light 
from  the  setting  sun,  and  sought  for  a  book  on  the 
little  stand  beside  which  his  mother  had  been  wont  to 
sit.  On  this  piece  of  furniture  hung  a  ring  of  brass, 
and  by  pulling  it  Laurie  had  been  used,  as  a  little 
boy,  to  evoke  the  mystery  of  a  certain  sliding  desk. 

Mechanically  he  presently  turned  from  his  volume, 
of  which  he  had  not  understood  one  word,  to  try  at 
the  desk  as  of  old.  He  could  almost  hear  his  mother 
say,  "  Don't,  Laurie  !  "  in  her  clear,  masterful  tones. 
The  desk  glided  into  sight,  revealing  its  well-worn 
upper  surface  covered  with  cotton  velvet.  Lifting 
this,  he  found  the  interior  stocked  with  appurte 
nances  for  writing  and  a  series  of  Eve's  account- 
books,  neatly  kept. 

In  sheer  weariness  of  spirit  he  opened  one,  then 
another,  of  these.  They  had  all  to  do  with  recent 
expenditures  in  the  household,  and  were  accom 
panied  by  statements  from  his  father's  man  of  affairs, 
that  the  poor  gentleman  had  not  been  allowed  to  see. 

As  Laurence  read,  the  blood  mounted  to  his  face. 
For  a  long  time,  it  would  appear,  their  house  had 
been  tottering  to  its  financial  fall.  The  revenues  of 
the  family  did  not  pretend  to  equal  its  necessary  out 
lay.  Who,  then,  had  supplied  deficiencies  that  should 
have  been  met  by  him  f 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  07 

In  a  flash  came  to  him  Mrs.  Pips's  hint  about  Eve's 
private  needlework  and  the  money  supposed  to  be  ac 
cruing  to  her  account.  He  recalled  the  girl's  con 
stant  application  to  odds  and  ends  of  fine  stitchery, 
the  nature  of  which  he  had  not  understood,  but  that  he 
had  often  urged  her  to  put  down.  For  him  and  his 
she  had  stripped  herself  of  hard  earnings.  To  bar 
the  wolf  from  the  Queen  Street  door  the  brave  little 
girl  had  lent  all  her  strength.  And  none  of  the 
Hopes  had,  apparently,  been  the  wiser.  They  had  all 
used  her,  called  her  hither  and  thither,  depended  upon 
her;  and,  in  the  end,  she  had  been  chased  like  a  dis 
graced  menial  from  beneath  their  roof ! 

Laurence  choked,  and  sprang  to  his  feet.  He  could 
no  longer  endure  the  air  of  this  room,  borne  down  with 
familiar  scents.  It  seemed  to  him  to  be  redolent  of 
ingratitude.  For  the  first  time  in  hours  he  crossed 
the  threshold,  passed  the  door  behind  which  death's 
mystery  was  couched,  and  went  down  to  the  floor 
below. 

Rarely,  if  he  could  help  himself,  had  he  entered 
these  great,  deserted  rooms.  The  treasures  of  their 
bygone  finery,  so  admired  by  his  townspeople,  were  to 
him  inexpressibly  dreary  and  depressing.  The  hoi- 
land  bags  in  which  the  furniture  was  shrouded  made 
whitish  patches  in  the  dusk.  The  wide  parquetted 
floor  was  a  gleaming  desert.  But  upon  the  cabi 
nets  and  pier-tables  of  the  chief  saloon  stood  certain 
objects  of  value  imported  from  the  Old  World  in  the 
palmy  days  of  the  family,  and  of  these  he  now  wished 
to  assure  himself.  He  knew  they  would  find  ready 
sale  among  the  wealthy  residents  of  the  town,  and  his 


68  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

intention  was,  from  the  proceeds  of  such  sale,  to  settle 
a  sum  upon  Eve  which  she  should  be  made  to  look 
upon  as  a  bequest  from  her  late  employers.  That 
would  be  little  enough  in  requital  for  her  self-sacri 
fices.  What  a  heart  of  gold  was  hers !  He  had  been 
blind  and  foolhardy  to  turn  aside  from  her  to  fix  his 
fancy  upon  a  spoiled  coquette. 

Through  all  his  loyal  desire  to  do  Eve  justice  the 
longing  for  Lucilla  had  been  struggling  uppermost. 
He  was  cut  to  the  heart  that  she  still  withheld  from 
him  even  the  smallest  token  of  her  regard. 

As  his  wounded  feelings  found  vent  in  this  final 
bitter  thought,  Eve  ran  in  through  the  rear  door. 
She  was  bathed  in  tears,  and  her  dress,  muddy  and 
disordered,  showed  that  she  had  come  in  haste  and 
afoot.  But  her  face,  illumined  with  love  and  sym 
pathy,  brought  him  a  quick  sense  of  renewed  life 
and  cheer. 

"  It  is  against  my  father's  orders,"  she  cried  bro 
kenly.  "  Oh,  Laurie,  did  he  suppose  I  could  leave 
you  alone — to-day?" 

"  Eve !  my  brave,  true  little  heroine !  It  would 
need  a  lifetime  to  tell  what  I  think  of  you.  For  I 
have  found  you  out,  dear.  Your  generosity  has  put 
me  to  keen  shame—" 

"What  was  it  to  do  for  them— for  you?"  she  said, 
faltering.  "  Laurie,  take  it  from  your  sister,  who  has 
come  to  mourn  with  you  our  dear  ones.  Oh !  since 
we  parted  I  have  seen  things  in  a  new  light. 
Your  poor  mother  had  right  on  her  side,  and  all  that 
has  passed  between  you  and  me  must  be  forgotten  by 
us  both.  Go  with  me,  and  by  her  side  I  will  renew 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOEK  69 

the  vow  made  to  my  father  never  to  think  of  marry 
ing  you." 

Her  voice  failed  through  heartfelt  sobbing.  Lau 
rence,  waiting  until  he  could  venture  to  take  her  up 
stairs,  stood  beside  her,  gently  stroking  her  bright 
hair. 

While  they  remained  together  thus,  the  heavy  ma 
hogany  door  leading  into  the  entrance-hall  creaked 
inward  on  unused  hinges,  and  from  without  floated 
to  Laurence  the  soft  accents  of  a  voice  that  made  his 
heart  stand  still. 

"  You  will  say  that  of  course  I  do  not  expect  your 
master  to  come  down  —  that  I  called  merely  to 
inquire." 

Directly  Chloe  appeared,  ushering  into  the  dusky 
room  a  vision  so  resplendent  in  youth  and  timorous 
beauty  that  the  young  man  started  away  from  Eve  as 
if  he  had  been  shot— but  not  until  the  newcomer  had 
taken  in  a  full  impression  of  the  scene. 

It  was  Lucilla,  in  hood  and  tippet,  as  she  had  just 
stepped  from  her  chair  outside  !  Lucilla,  who,  after 
her  passionate  denunciation  of  him  to  Arnold  in  the 
garden,  had  gone  to  her  room  and  straightway  lapsed 
into  hot  repentance  for  hasty  judgment!  Lucilla, 
who,  yielding  to  an  irresistible  impulse,  had  come 
here,  regardless  of  all  else,  to  mourn  with  him  in  his 
sorrow ! 

Eve  could  not  fathom  the  moment  of  freezing 
silence  that  ensued,  but  with  a  bow  full  of  modest 
dignity  she  passed  the  stranger  by  and  left  them 
together. 

"You  do  not  speak?"  cried  Laurence,  imploringly. 


70  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

"Yet  you  could  extend  to  me  this  act  of  womanly 
compassion  in  the  stunning  blow  that  kept  me  from 
seeking  you  to-day  ?  Surely  you  don't  regret  it  ?  Oh ! 
if  you  knew  how  I  have  wearied  for  even  a  line  in 
your  handwriting  to  say  that  you  feel  my  grief — " 

"You  see  you  were  not  disappointed,"  said  Mrs. 
Warriner,  holding  her  beautiful  head  high  and  speak 
ing  in  a  clear,  metallic  voice.  "And  now,  perhaps 
you  will  be  so  good  as  to  recall  your  servant  and  have 
me  shown  to  my  chair  ?  " 

"  Lucilla !  "  exclaimed  he,  making  two  strides  to 
where  she  stood  with  her  hand  upon  the  knob  of  the 
door,  then  pausing,  remembering  the  dread  presence 
in  his  home. 

Lucilla  did  not  exert  herself  to  answer  his  mute 
appeal.  With  one  look  that  spoke  volumes,  she  turned 
and  vanished. 


was  not  easy  for  her  friends  to  under 
stand  why  Mrs.  Warriner,  interrupting 
capriciously  her  career  as  a  leader  of 
fashionable  life,  should  have  shut  up  her 
Broadway  house  so  early  as  the  latter 
days  of  May,  and  set  out,  with  her  family  and  atten 
dants,  in  a  slow-sailing  sloop  for  her  manor  on  the 
Hudson. 

That  her  name  was  down  as  patroness  of  several 
active  charities,  that  she  left  many  engagements  un 
fulfilled,  that  her  blooming  health  gave  no  excuse  of 
illness,  made  her  flitting  the  more  mysterious.  For 
a  few  days  the  matter  was  discussed, — in  these  times 
it  would  have  been  disposed  of  in  a  few  hours,— then 
people  began  to  declare  that  Lucilla  had  accepted  her 
cousin,  Captain  Warriner,  and  the  marriage  would 
soon  take  place  from  the  Manor,  so  that  the  captain 
might  literally  "  come  into  his  own." 

When  Arnold  was  approached  on  the  subject  he 
did  nothing  to  dissipate  the  impression,  but,  smiling, 
bowing,  looking  conscious,  left  all  the  world  to  believe 
that  he  was  the  proverbial  happy  man.  Yet,  strangely 
enough,  as  the  weeks  went  on  he  did  not  leave  New 
York.  No  doubt  Mistress  Lucilla  was  preparing 
some  surprise.  She  was  always  original ! 


72  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

Of  the  two  factions  of  admirers,  one  of  whom  had 
held  up  Warriner's  banner,  the  other  ranging  itself 
under  that  of  Laurence  Hope,  the  "Warriner  cham 
pions  were  now  triumphant.  Their  man,  having  be 
haved  with  excellent  discretion,  was  clearly  favored 
of  the  gods. 

Hope,  on  the  contrary,  had  passed  under  a  cloud 
of  adverse  circumstance.  Nobody  thought  of  quoting 
him  as  a  pet  of  fortune.  Since  the  tragedy  of  his 
loss  of  both  parents  in  a  night,  and  after  the  daylight 
of  disclosure  had  been  let  in  upon  their  family  affairs, 
a  sad  discovery  had  been  made.  To  meet  liabilities 
contracted  by  his  parents,  chiefly  to  pay  the  debts  of 
his  late  spendthrift  brother,  it  was  found  necessary 
to  sell  house,  furniture,  and  other  real  estate,  leaving 
Laurence  almost  penniless  but  for  his  army  pay. 

The  world,  not  always  ill-natured,  was  glad  when 
a  purchaser  for  the  Queen  Street  mansion  appeared 
in  the  person  of  a  rich  member  of  Congress  anxious 
for  installation  in  a  desirable  quarter  near  the  East 
River.  There  had  been  no  such  activity  in  securing 
residences  known  since  the  war,  and  other  sales  were 
as  good;  but  Laurence  reaped  little  benefit;  very 
nearly  all  of  the  proceeds  went  to  his  father's  creditors. 

However  pitiful  Captain  Hope's  condition,  some 
thing  stood  between  him  and  public  sympathy.  It 
was  that  ugly  story  concerning  his  affair  with  a  hand 
some  girl,  an  employee  of  his  mother.  No  one  denied 
't  was  the  shock  of  discovering  their  intrigue  that  had 
precipitated  Madam  Hope's  demise.  What  mother  of 
sons  but  could  feel  for  the  poor  lady  and  turn  a 
frown  upon  the  offenders!  And  the  conditions— so 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOEK  73 

repulsive !  She  hoodwinked,  trusting  both  of  them 
implicitly,  and  the  thing  carried  on  under  her  eyes, 
nay,  in  the  very  sick-room  of  the  father.  The  hussy 
must  be  deep ! 

The  story  of  the  elopement,  having  gone  through 
various  phases,  had  settled  down  to  this :  The  couple 
had  been  overhauled  by  a  messenger  on  horseback, 
bearing  the  news  of  the  captain's  mother's  death,  when 
they  had  got  no  farther  on  their  journey  than  Harlem 
Plains.  They  had  returned  before  the  minx  had  en 
trapped  Laurence  into  marriage.  What  had  become 
of  her  nobody  knew  or  cared.  Such  schemers  were  a 
constant  menace  to  the  young  men  of  good  families. 
The  least  that  could  be  done  with  Master  Laurie  was 
to  send  him,  for  a  while,  to  Coventry. 

Smarting  under  the  odium  of  ill-natured  lies,  made 
to  stand  in  a  corner  by  society,  ignored  like  one 
dead  by  the  woman  he  loved,  Laurence  had  violently 
wrenched  himself  as  much  as  possible  from  contact 
with  the  world.  Of  the  meager  military  establishment 
the  new  government  had  taken  over  from  the  late  Con 
federation,  General  Knox,  the  Secretary  of  War,  was 
his  only  official  superior  then  present  in  New  York ;  the 
Secretary  had  need  of  him  for  duty  at  headquarters, 
and  thought  it  best  to  let  his  fit  of  spleen  work  itself 
quietly  out.  Though  in  the  offices  of  the  War  Depart 
ment  they  smiled  at  his  passionately  expressed  wish 
for  active  service  in  the  field  to  remove  him  from  the 
sphere  of  slander,  for  a  chance  to  warm  his  blood  anew 
in  an  honest  fight,  the  impulse  was  understood  by  the 
veterans  who  had  recently  laid  aside  their  arms  ill 
hard-earned  peace. 


74  THE  CIRCLE  OP  A  CENTURY 

Even  President  "Washington,  by  whom  most  things 
concerning  his  old  followers  were  observed,  smiled 
gravely  when,  addressing  Captain  Hope  one  day  in 
public,  he  bade  him  remember  there  was  harder  work 
for  the  Sons  of  Liberty  in  maintaining  what  they  had 
won  than  in  striking  for  it  with  their  swords. 

The  sound  of  his  chief's  voice  in  kindly  admonition 
made  the  fire  leap  into  Hope's  eyes,  his  face  flush, 
every  muscle  of  his  body  stiffen  with  new  resolve. 
Not  trusting  himself  to  speak,  he  bowed  his  acknow 
ledgment. 

After  that  there  was  no  more  moping.  The  perilous 
illness  of  the  President,  occurring  at  this  time,  inspired 
all  classes  with  anxiety,  and  knit  in  a  common  bond 
many  hearts  previously  driven  asunder  by  political 
dispute.  Hope  despised  himself  for  his  late  selfish 
indulgence  in  despondency.  What  could  he— what 
would  not  he — do  now  to  prove  himself  worthy  the 
injunction  of  his  peerless  commander,  now  lying  so 
near  to  death  ? 

He  threw  himself  into  present  occupation  with  zeal 
so  marked  that  the  report  of  it  was  carried  to  the 
President  in  his  convalescence.  Shortly  afterward 
Hope's  heart  was  made  glad  by  receiving  orders  to 
go  on  an  extended  journey  on  horseback  through  the 
Eastern  States  to  visit  certain  military  posts  still  in 
possession  of  the  British,  about  which  the  President 
was  known  to  feel  concern,  and  to  report  his  observa 
tions  to  the  government. 

It  was  a  mission  requiring  sound  knowledge  of  his 
profession,  as  well  as  diplomatic  skill.  His  choice 
by  highest  authority  for  the  task  was  equivalent  to  a 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  75 

public  declaration  of  his  deserts.  When  he  presented 
himself  at  the  President's  levee  to  take  final  leave, 
before  setting  out  on  the  expedition,  Laurence  met  no 
more  averted  looks.  All  eyes  beamed  on  him  approv 
ingly.  The  most  important  members  of  the  govern 
ment  had  kind  words  of  farewell  for  him,  and  by 
his  contemporaries  in  service  in  the  now  disbanded 
Continental  Army  he  was  congratulated  in  envying 
terms. 

One  voice  in  the  choir  was  silent.  Arnold  Warriner 
turned  on  him  darkling  looks,  and,  at  a  men's  supper 
given  on  the  eve  of  Hope's  departure,  got  up  pointedly 
and  left  the  table  when  Hope  sat  down  to  it.  The  in 
tention  of  insult  was  unmistakable  ;  but  Hope,  by  the 
advice  of  his  friends,  decided  not  to  take  notice  of  it. 
The  next  day  he  was  to  set  out  to  be  absent  for  several 
months  in  the  special  service  of  the  Chief.  That  duty 
should  be  paramount ;  his  own  quarrels  could  wait. 

For  some  time  before  this  outburst  Arnold  Warri 
ner  had  felt  with  stinging  certainty  that  Lucilla  had 
slipped  between  his  hands.  He  had  made  sure  in  the 
beginning  that  after  a  brief  time  in  which  to  get  over 
her  pique  with  Hope  she  would  recall  him  to  resume 
his  role  of  cousinly  consoler,  from  which  post  it  would 
be  but  a  step  to  divert  her  affections  to  himself.  So 
convinced,  he  had  fervently  indorsed  her  resolution  to 
go  out  of  town  ;  but  his  very  first  offer  of  himself  as  a 
guest  at  the  Manor  had  been  met  by  an  excuse  and  a 
delay. 

Arnold  could  understand  a  high-spirited  woman 
feeling  shy  about  again  meeting  one  who  had  been 
witness  to  her  despairing  tears  over  another  man's 


76  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUKY 

desertion ;  but  as  weeks  passed  into  months,  and  he 
was  still  kept  at  bay,  he  lost  patience,  objurgating 
Lucilla,  her  mother,  and  Hope  in  terms  hardly  flatterin  g. 
In  an  access  of  disappointment  and  wounded  vanity, 
he  had  even  addressed  to  her  a  letter  hinting  that  she 
should  have  more  womanly  pride  than  to  remain  in 
consolable  about  Hope.  To  this  Lucilla  deftly  ans 
wered  that  if  indeed  she  had  tried  to  think  forgiv 
ingly  of  the  offender,  it  was  in  deference  to  Arnold's 
advice,  and  she  should  ever  thank  him  for  his  recom 
mendation  to  Christian  charity.  Whereupon  Warriner, 
remembering  how  he  had  blown  cold,  then  hot,  in  the 
widow's  garden,  again  devoted  Lucilla  and  her  swain 
to  all  evil. 

If  he  could  only  be  sure  about  the  state  of  affairs 
between  them !  Hope's  exoneration  from  the  charge 
brought  against  him  to  Lucilla  was  now  known  by 
his  best  friends  to  be  complete.  Already  the  world 
was  beginning  to  accept  it.  Had  not  Lucilla,  ascer 
taining  this,  offered  Hope  a  renewal  of  her  friendship  ? 
And  was  not  Arnold  held  responsible  for  the  slander  ? 
How  else  could  he  interpret  the  sarcasm  of  her  letter  ? 
In  Arnold's  eyes,  women  had  no  business  to  be  sarcas 
tic,  or  investigating,  or  anything  but  loving  recipients 
of  the  dicta  of  mankind.  Lucilla  had  evidently  re 
covered  ground  to  some  extent ;  and  Hope's  return  to 
cheerful  looks  and  vigorous  work  was  in  the  highest  de 
gree  suggestive.  Oh !  if  it  were  true  that  fellow  had— 

Arnold  stopped  short  at  the  reflection  of  his  own 
face  in  his  mirror,  before  which  he  was  dressing.  It 
was  well  Lucilla  had  never  seen  those  handsome 
features  so  disturbed  by  black  rage. 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  77 

It  was  more  than  a  sentimental  fury  that  possessed 
him.  Since  the  spring,  events  had  transformed  the 
faineant  ex-captain  into  a  desperately  anxious  man. 
His  passion  for  high  play,  fostered  by  a  complaisant 
age,  had  brought  him  to  the  brink  of  dishonorable 
ruin.  Unless  he  could  soon  lay  hands  upon  fortune 
through  Lucilla — this  incident,  this  intruder  into  the 
Warriner  family,  who  had  stepped  before  him  by  a 
whim  of  fate — his  crash  was  soon  to  come.. 

Lucilla  must  be  his.  And  the  only  obstacle  was 
Laurence  Hope ! 

Thus  matters  stood  when  Captain  Hope  was  an 
nounced  at  headquarters  to  have  come  in  for  that 
most  coveted  designation  for  special  employment  by 
the  President's  own  selection.  Then  Arnold's  smolder 
ing  fire  had  leaped  into  flame. 

What  was  this  but  the  effort  of  influential  friends 
to  rehabilitate  his  rival  before  the  public  gaze  ?  After 
it,  Hope  might  pretend  to  anything.  Under  the  in 
fluence  of  the  galling  thought,  he  had  tried  to  insult 
Laurence  before  the  assembled  supper-party.  Feeling 
sure  it  had  been  perceived,  Hope's  failure  to  notice 
him  in  return  filled  his  soul  with  frenzy.  Quitting 
the  house  to  wander  out  into  the  night,  he  carried 
prisoned  in  his  breast  a  demon  that  gave  him  no  rest 
from  its  vengeful  promptings. 

EVE,  sitting  alone  on  the  door-stone  of  her  father's 
cottage,  listened  drearily  to  the  voices  of  the  night. 
Job  had  gone  into  town  to  deliver  a  piece  of  com 
pleted  work,  but  at  parting  had  addressed  to  her  no 
expression  of  hope  that  she  would  not  mind  her  soli- 


78  THE  CIKCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

tude.  Words  between  them  were  few  in  these  days 
of  her  new  life. 

It  was  broad  moonlight  of  September,  and  she 
could  see  the  river  shining.  With  a  companion  with 
whom  she  could  interchange  congenial  thoughts,  the 
scene  and  hour  would  have  been  a  luxury.  But  Eve 
was  dull  and  still.  She  was  thinking  of  days  forever 
gone,  of  joys  snatched  from  her. 

She  sometimes  wondered  if  it  could  be  true  she  was 
ever  so  blended  with  the  Hopes  that  her  thoughts  and 
f eelings  were  their  own ;  that  she  had  ever  believed 
Laurie  could  be  her  husband.  It  had  been  so  long 
since  she  had  done  anything  but  bend  her  head  like 
a  reed  before  the  storm ! 

Eve's  had  been  a  sad  trial.  The  scandal  that  had 
slipped  like  a  mantle  from  the  man  had  overwhelmed 
the  woman. 

The  first  intimation  coming  to  Job  that  idle  tongues 
were  busy  with  the  good  name  of  his  child  was  a  visit 
from  an  elder  of  his  church.  The  story,  in  detail,  of 
Eve's  alleged  offense  was  then  laid  before  him,  and 
Eve  summoned  to  meet  an  investigation  behind  closed 
doors.  Either  she  must  satisfy  the  church  of  her  in 
nocence  or  retire  from  its  membership.  This  was  to 
wound  Job  Watson  in  his  tenderest  sensibility — alle 
giance  to  the  religion  handed  down  to  him  by  his 
fathers.  In  his  rage  and  shame,  he  refused  to  give 
her  a  personal  hearing. 

The  incidents  of  her  abrupt  return  home,  her  con 
fession  of  dismissal  from  service,  her  disobedience  in 
leaving  him  to  go  back  to  the  house  of  death,  arose 
as  confirmation  of  her  guilt.  Laurence  Hope's  manly 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOEK  79 

letter  exculpating  the  girl  from  any  suspicion  of  of 
fense  leading  to  her  discharge  became  a  piece  of 
specious  insolence.  How  much  more  so  the  seemingly 
considerable  sum  of  money  sent  as  "  wages  due  "  from 
her  late  employer !  Job,  who  had  at  first  laid  this 
away  in  his  strong  box  with  some  relaxation  of  feel 
ing  toward  the  Hopes,  now  took  it  out  with  a  dark 
flush  upon  his  cheek.  He  would  not  delay  a  moment  in 
sending  it  back,  with  a  message  of  fierce  and  bitter  re 
jection,  to  the  agent  through  whom  Hope  had  preferred 
to  act.  And  then,  with  lamentations  for  the  disgrace 
that  had  come  upon  his  house,  Job  led  his  child  before 
the  judges  who  were  to  decide  her  fate. 

Eve's  heart  bled  for  her  father  as  he  stood  beside 
her  throughout  the  ordeal.  She  had  never  seen  his 
head  bowed  like  this,  when  it  was  a  question  of  ban 
ishing  his  child  from  the  fold  that  had  been  the  refuge 
of  his  forebears  for  long  generations.  The  presence  of 
Mrs.  Pips— an  affectionate  if  confused  witness— and 
of  a  few  grave  elders  Eve  had  looked  up  to  from  child 
hood  gave  her  courage  to  speak  in  her  own  defense. 
All  she  could  do  was  to  tell  her  simple  story  of  the 
facts.  When  she  had  finished,  an  aged  leader  came 
forward  and  held  out  his  hand  to  her. 

"  You  have  made  a  plain  statement,  my  child,"  he 
said,  tears  starting  to  his  eyes ;  "  and  I  '11  venture  to 
say  there  's  not  one  of  us  few  who  have  met  here  to 
pass  on  you  to-day  but  what  feels  you  have  spoken 
truth.  But  we  must  confer  together,  and  God  grant 
all  the  rest  are  of  my  mind." 

Then  only  did  Eve  cast  herself  in  a  passion  of 
weeping  into  her  father's  unwilling  arms. 


80  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

In  the  end,  with  much  deliberation,  and  after  con 
victing  her  of  the  less  serious  offense  of  having  been 
present  at  a  performance  of  public  theatricals  the 
year  before,  Eve  was  exonerated  from  the  graver 
charge.  Following  certain  discipline,  she  was  to  be 
reestablished  in  her  old  place  in  the  church. 

The  shame  of  the  ordeal  had  fallen  like  a  lash  upon 
her  father's  spirit.  She  felt  it  would  be  to  him  a  life 
long  humiliation,  and  the  sight  of  her  in  his  house  a 
continual  offense. 

Their  days  together,  after  this,  were  intolerably 
strained.  For  a  time  Eve  went  about  her  household 
tasks  in  dumb  endurance  of  her  lot.  Now  and  again 
the  thought  of  what  she  had  lost  in  renouncing 
Laurie's  love  swept  over  her  like  a  flood,  and  she  felt 
she  must  see  him  and  speak  to  him,  or  die.  But  for 
the  most  part  she  was  heroically  calm. 

Once  the  idea  came  to  her  to  relieve  her  father  of 
her  presence  by  taking  a  room  in  the  town  and  get 
ting  work  on  her  own  account.  With  a  feeling  of 
new  life  at  the  prospect,  she  went  to  consult  Mrs. 
Pips,  who  received  her  with  effusive  welcome.  But 
at  the  first  disclosure  of  the  girl's  ambitions  the  good 
woman  mournfully  told  her  the  scheme  had  objections 
she  had  not  thought  of. 

"  Oh,  my  dear !  it  goes  against  me  to  give  you  pain — 
I  that  well  knows  what  trouble  is,"  said  the  dame.  "  It 
is  n't  that  I  'd  fear  to  take  you  in,  and  charge  you  as 
little  for  it,  too,  as  anybody  in  the  street,  for  my 
spare  room  is  empty  now.  And  I  don't  doubt  the 
gentry  'u'd  come  back  to  you  in  time.  There  ain't 
many  hands  at  a  needle  like  you,  and  they  know  it. 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOEK  81 

But  no  matter  what  your  clmrch  said,  there  '11  be 
people  to  be  always  casting  what  was  charged  against 
you  like  mud  on  your  skirts  as  you  walk  by.  If  you 
leave  your  father  now  they  '11  be  gospel  sure  you  're 
in  the  wrong.  It 's  only  sticking  by  him  till  the 
thing 's  forgotten  that  '11  help  you  in  the  least." 

"  I  think  nothing  can  help  me,"  said  Eve,  in  a  low, 
distressful  tone,  as  she  turned  to  walk  away.  When 
she  had  gone  some  distance,  she  came  back  and  cried 
in  the  old  woman's  bosom,  and  was .  cried  over  in 
return. 

After  that  it  was  again  silent  suffering,  until  her 
loneliness  grew  almost  more  than  she  could  bear.  In 
her  desperate  isolation  she  often  thought  of  Luke 
Adamson.  So  long  had  he  stayed  away  that  she  was 
conscious  of  a  sickening  fear  lest  he  belonged  to  the 
body  of  those  still  unconvinced  of  her  rectitude.  It 
seemed  natural  that  he,  more  than  another,  should 
feel  the  sting  of  these  charges  against  the  woman 
everybody  knew  he  had  long  hoped  to  win.  If  he 
would  only  give  her  a  chance  to  set  him  right ! 

But  Luke  had  not  appeared ;  and  Job,  little  gifted 
with  tact,  had  outspokenly  told  Eve  the  lad  knew 
better  than  to  have  people  say  he  was  still  hanging 
on  to  a  girl  that  had  been  disgraced  before  the 
church. 

At  the  moment  when,  sitting  under  the  moonbeams, 
her  thoughts  had  again  reverted  to  her  humble  lover, 
Eve  was  startled  by  the  figure  of  a  man  with  his  hand 
upon  the  garden  gate.  Her  throb  of  despairing  hope 
that  it  might  be  Laurie  was  dashed  away  by  the  ap 
proach  of  Luke  Adamson. 


82  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

"I  met  your  father  carrying  back  Judge  Chater's 
escritoire,"  he  said,  after  bidding  her  a  shy  good  even 
ing  and  sitting  down  at  the  other  end  of  the  step,  "  so 
I  knew  you  would  be  alone.  Do  you  like  heliotrope  ? 
—a  gardener  gave  me  this." 

"  I  love  it !  "  cried  Eve,  receiving  the  large  cluster 
he  held  out,  and  burying  her  face  in  its  luscious  blos 
soms.  "We  have  only  common  flowers  as  yet,  but 
next  year,  if  my  father  is  willing,  I  mean  to  have  a 
fine  border." 

"  Are  n't  there  some  things  that  would  bloom  this 
autumn  that  we  could  set  out  now  ? "  he  asked,  relieved 
by  her  acceptance  of  his  token.  "  I  know  that  gar 
dener  well.  He  is  the  Scot  who  laid  out  those  famous 
beds  in  that  grand  house  in  Broadway— the  ones 
everybody  stops  to  look  at  through  the  railings— 
they  call  it  Widow  Warriner's." 

"  Oh !  I  don't  want  them,"  interrupted  Eve,  letting 
fall  her  heliotrope  into  her  lap  and  sitting  upright  in 
a  sort  of  defiant  pose. 

Poor  Luke  could  not  know  that  the  name  he  had 
mentioned  brought  back  the  most  poignant  of  all  Eve's 
sufferings— her  first  glimpse  of  the  splendid  Lucilla 
in  the  Hopes'  drawing-room,  and  her  instant  convic 
tion  that  this  was  Laurie's  love. 

"  No  offense  meant,"  said  the  young  man,  after  an 
awkward  silence. 

"  Please,  Luke,  don't  mind  me  if  I  seem  fretful  and 
nervous.  I  see  so  few  people  that  I  'm  forgetting  how 
to  behave.  Indeed,  when  you  came  I  'd  just  been 
thinking  of  you  and  wishing  for  the  hundredth  time 
that  you'd  take  it  into  your  head  to  come  and  see 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  83 

an  old  friend,  who,  though  appearances  are  against 
her,  has  never  done  anything  to  forfeit  your  good 
opinion." 

"  As  if  I  'd  ever  thought  so !  "  he  cried.  "  Eve,  I  Ve 
been  just  hungering  to  come,  but  your  father  told  me 
my  visits  would  not  be  welcome.  And  I  could  feel 
myself  that  the  sight  of  a  man  who  loved  you  would 
be  always  reminding  you  of  him  you  'd  lost.  If  I  'd 
had  the  right  to  be  by  your  side,  do  you  think  I  'd 
have  left  you  alone  through  such  trials  ?  Eve,  lassie, 
I  sometimes  think  girls  like  you  can't  picture  to  them 
selves  what  they  rouse  in  a  man's  heart.  If  you  did, 
you  'd  not  be  fancying  I  could  stay  away,  unless  it  was 
because  I  loved  you  better  than  I  love  myself.  But 
this  is  n't  what  I  came  for — " 

"You  believed  in  me  from  the  first?"  she  inter 
rupted,  soothed  by  the  delicious  sense  that  here,  at 
last,  was  one  who  had  felt  her  sorrows  as  his  own. 

"  Never  for  one  minute  did  I  doubt  you.  If  I  had, 
I  'd  ha'  killed  him,  instead  of  calling  him  my  friend." 

"Him — you  have  seen  Captain  Hope? "she  asked 
eagerly. 

"  All  summer  he  and  I  have  been  meeting  and  talk 
ing  about  you,  and  plotting  to  help  you.  But  in  this 
sort  of  case  a  young  man  is  worse  than  nothing,  Eve, 
and  we  had  both  the  sense  to  know  that,  to  serve  you, 
we  must  keep  away  from  you." 

"  I  suppose  so,"  she  said,  sighing.  "  But  ah !  what 
heartaches  it  would  have  saved  me  to  feel  that  he— 
that  you—"  She  stopped,  confused. 

"  Eve,  he  came  to  me  first  because  you  had  told  him  I 
was  to  be  trusted.  And  you  will  trust  me  now,  when 


84  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

I  tell  you  the  thought  that 's  in  your  mind  must  not 
be  allowed  to  stay  there.  Captain  Hope  has  no  idea 
of  coming  back  to  you,  my  dear.  He  has  put  you  out 
of  his  mind  for  always,  except  as  a  brave,  true  girl 
who  has  suffered  through  his  fault.  He  would  give 
anything  in  the  world  to  undo  what  has  been  done. 
But  he  can't,  and  I  can't.  Nothing  can,  but  time. 
Some  day  he  hopes  to  meet  you  again,  but  not  now." 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  but  Eve  did  not  answer. 
Then,  catching  his  breath,  the  man  went  on  again : 

"  You  were  not  the  only  sufferer,  Eve.  The  captain, 
too,  had  sore  trials  coming  out  of  your  affairs.  It  is 
only  just  now  that  he 's  beginning  to  look  and  act  like 
himself  again.  Now,  dear,  let  me  tell  you  what  he  's 
made  me  do  for  you— take  into  my  charge  that  money 
coming  to  you  from  the  Hope  estate,  that  he  says  is 
yours  by  right.  He  can't  touch  it,  if  you  won't ;  and 
so  I  've  promised  to  hold  it,  subject  to  your  claim. 
He  's  been  urging  this  on  me  a  long  time,  but  I  held 
back,  and  to-day  he  has  persuaded  me  to  do  it,  and  to 
come  here  and  tell  you,  without  putting  it  off  an 
other  day.  He  thinks  you  need  me,  Eve,  and  God 
grant  he 's  right !  " 

"I  do  need  you,  Luke.  My  heart  would  have 
broken  soon  if  some  one  had  not  come,"  she  said, 
swallowing  a  sob. 

It  was  a  critical  moment  for  Luke,  who  was  yearn 
ing  to  clasp  her  to  his  heart  and  carry  her  away  into 
his  home  forever.  But  he  had  gone  there  determined 
to  be  impersonal,  and  would  not  yield. 

"  The  captain  gave  me  a  message  for  you,  Eve.  He 
said  I  was  to  beg  you,  for  his  sake,  to  call  on  me  when- 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOKE  85 

ever  anything  or  anybody  makes  life  hard  for  you. 
He  wanted  to  be  sure  there  '11  be  some  one  to  stand 
by  you  through  thick  and  thin." 

"He  is— what  is  he  going  to  do?"  she  asked,  her 
heart  beating  quick. 

"  That 's  my  news,  Eve.  1 'm  afraid  it  may  give  you 
pain,  but  it 's  the  best  thing  that  could  happen  to  the 
captain.  He 's  going  away  on  a  long  journey  of  three 
or  four  months.  It 's  a  great  chance  for  him,  and 
he  7s  rare  proud  of  it,  I  tell  you." 

"  Going  away !  "  Eve  repeated  blankly.  Nothing 
that  Luke  could  do  or  say  could  alter  the  force  of 
that.  All  these  sad  months  of  separation  she  had 
been  at  least  able  to  think  of  him  as  near  her,  and  to 
know  that  he  was  well. 

"Yes;  't  was  n't  fit  for  him  to  be  moping  on  here, 
and  you  and  I  must  be  glad  for  him,  Eve.  He  asked 
me  to  say  good-by  for  him,  and  to  tell  you  that,  what 
ever  comes,  he  '11  always  be  your  loyal  and  devoted 
friend.  I  wish  I  could  speak  like  the  captain,  Eve, 
but  I  can't.  I  'm  only  a  plain  workingman,  without 
education,  down  at  the  bottom  of  the  ladder,  while 
he  's  at  the  top.  If  the  time  ever  comes  when  I  or 
mine  could  befriend  him,  I  'd  be  glad  to  do  it,  for  he  's 
given  me  the  chance  of  my  life.  I  Ve  kept  this  for 
the  last,  Eve !  He  's  got  me  the  contract  to  build  a 
big  warehouse  that 's  going  up  on  some  city  lots,  once 
belonging  to  the  Hopes,  that  were  bought  in  by  a 
friend  of  his  father's.  And  if  our  town  goes  on 
spreading  over  this  island,  as  it  's  like  to  do,  and  I 
give  satisfaction  as  a  master  builder,  there  '11  be  more 
work  of  the  kind  to  follow.  I  'm  to  go  to-morrow  and 


86  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

sign  the  papers.  How 's  that  for  a  beginning,  Eve  ? 
No  job-work  after  this,  if  I  succeed !  " 

"  Dear  Luke,  you  deserve  the  best  always,"  she  said, 
"  and  I  am  thankful  that  you  've  found  such  a  friend." 

"  It  is  you  that  found  him  for  me  in  the  beginning, 
Eve ;  and  I  won't  say  that  I  did  n't  at  first  mistrust 
him  mightily.  But  he  's  a  man,  every  inch  of  him, 
and  if  your  father  were  to  ask  me,  I  'd  say  so  to  his 
face.  But  as  long  as  water  runs  to  the  sea  you  'd 
never  get  Job  Watson  to  think  any  better  of  such  as 
Captain  Hope  as  a  husband  for  you  than  the  captain's 
people  thought  of  you  as  a  wife  for  him.  Don't 
shrink  from  me,  Eve.  I  'm  not  going  to  hurt  you  any 
more.  I  had  to  say  this  to  make  all  straight  between 
us." 

"  You  don't  hurt  me ;  but  wait  a  minute !  "  she  said 
feverishly.  Luke  was  silent,  and  together  they  thus 
remained  for  a  long  time.  Then  she  began  to  speak 
to  him  of  things  irrelevant. 

When  Eve  lay  down  to  rest  that  night  she  was, 
despite  the  touch  upon  her  sorest  spot,  happier  than 
for  weeks  past.  The  knowledge  that  Laurence  had 
been  watching  over  her,  though  from  afar,  blended 
with  the  comfort  of  Luke's  tender  if  homely  words. 
Poor  Luke!  He  had  done  her  more  good  than 
anybody,  even  if  he  could  not  fill  the  void  in  her 
breast !  The  world  was  not  all  desolate,  now  that  she 
had  tasted  some  of  the  love  and  sympathy  her  nature 
craved. 

WHILE  these  things  are  going  on  in  town,  we  may 
hark  back  to  the  beginning  of  Mistress  Lucilla's  ex- 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  87 

perience  as  a  world-renouncing  celibate  amid  the  for 
ests  around  her  beautiful  home  on  the  Hudson. 

After  about  a  week  of  it  her  spirits  flagged,  her 
tasks  lacked  interest.  Neither  books,  work,  exer 
cise  on  the  pianoforte,  nor  visits  to  the  poor  on  her 
estate  gave  her  comfort.  Still-room,  dairy,  poultry- 
yard,  stables  —  all  palled  on  her  fancy.  Forever 
and  ever  she  was  thinking  how  she  hated  Laurence 
Hope. 

With  her  cousin  Arnold's  disclosure  still  rankling 
in  her  mind,  after  her  first  burst  of  jealous  anger 
against  Hope,  in  which  she  had  declared  she  would 
never  look  upon  his  face  again,  had  she  not  merci 
fully  and  graciously  reconsidered  that  determination  ? 
Had  not  she  on  the  spur  of  the  moment  ordered  her 
chairmen  to  carry  her  across  to  the  Hopes'  house,  de 
termining  to  give  her  lover  the  most  generous  proof 
of  her  continuing  trust  in  him?  And  once  there, 
what  spectacle  had  met  her  gaze  ?  Laurence  standing 
as  close  as  he  could  get  beside  that  little  red-haired 
person,  bending  over  her  with  every  expression  of 
affectionate  solicitude,  and— oh,  horrors !  — stroking 
her  hair ! 

It  would  be  of  no  possible  use  for  him  to  try  to  get 
over  that.  Let  him  marry  whom  he  would !  Mrs. 
Warriner  wanted  nothing  of  a  man  who  could  stroke 
another  woman's  hair — red  hair  ! — flaming  ! 

All  her  sweetness  was  turned  to  gall  by  this  dis 
closure  ;  she  returned  home  and  resigned  herself  never 
to  think  of  happiness  again.  When  a  letter  in  Hope's 
handwriting  had  come  to  her  one  evening,  she  had 
pounced  upon  it,  and  then  by  an  exercise  of  heroic 


88  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

fortitude  had  locked  it  up  unread.  Two  days  later 
another  missive  came.  Mrs.  Warriner,  finally  inclos 
ing  both  of  them  unopened  in  a  sheet  of  paper,  sealed 
twice  with  her  husband's  seal  displaying  the  Warriner 
coat  of  arms,  sent  them  back  to  the  writer.  The  next 
day  she  left  town.  After  that  she  had  heard  from 
him  no  more. 

Later  in  the  summer  a  letter  from  Miss  Polly  Clin 
ton  had  given  her  the  information  that  people  were 
coming  round  to  think  better  of  that  scandal  about 
Laurence  Hope.  In  Polly's  next  letter  Hope's  justifi 
cation  was  set  forth  at  greater  length;  and  the  third 
carried  with  it  this  balm  for  Lucilla's  heart :  "  Captain 
Hope  has  not  set  eyes  on  Eve  Watson  since  his 
parents'  funeral."  With  this  Lucilla  was  obliged  to 
be  content ;  but  she  held  Arnold  accountable  for  much 
of  her  trouble,  and  treated  him  accordingly. 

In  this  frame  of  mind,  dewy  June,  hot  July,  and 
sultry  August  had  passed  over  the  lady  of  the  Manor. 
September,  well  past  its  middle,  having  given  up  its 
struggle  to  be  reckoned  among  the  summer  months, 
was  coming  out  bravely  as  a  beauty  in  decline. 

The  hills  on  either  side  of  the  river,  that  here  wid 
ened  into  a  glassy  lake  specked  with  the  sails  of  lag 
gard  craft,  were  beginning  to  be  touched  with  purple 
and  orange  and  crimson ;  apples  were  dropping  in 
her  orchards ;  the  flight  of  ducks  southward  had  be 
gun;  Lucilla's  wood  walks  were  enlivened  by  the 
noise  of  full-grown  coveys  under  command  of  Bob 
White,  the  squirrel's  fussy  note,  and  the  loud  tapping 
of  woodpeckers.  And  in  the  general  stir  of  nature 
toward  provision  against  the  chill  future,  Mrs.  War- 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOKE  89 

riner  began  to  realize  that  she  was  tired  of  living  by 
herself. 

Madam  Chester,  who  had  her  own  reasons  for  sat 
isfaction  with  the  situation,  noticed  the  symptoms  of 
her  daughter's  state,  and  took  alarm.  She  had  en 
joyed  a  good  long  rest  from  her  prevalent  anxiety. 
In  town,  every  breeze  that  blew  threatened  a  husband 
who  might  send  his  mother-in-law  into  banishment. 
What  a  relief  to  pass  the  days  without  having  Arnold 
Warriner  marching  up  to  the  front  door,  or  seeing 
Laurence  Hope's  chctpeau  bras  lying  upon  the  table ! 
No  one  could  imagine  the  strain  it  had  been,  not  to 
know  when  the  former  might  come  to  a  halt  for  good 
inside  of  Lucilla's  front  door,  or  the  hat  be  hung  up 
with  an  expression  of  proprietary  right  in  the  hall ! 

Lucilla  had  not  realized  her  talent  as  a  dissembler 
until  she  found  her  mother  in  ignorance  of  her  real 
feeling  toward  these  two.  She  sometimes  amused 
herself  by  playing  upon  the  good  lady's  fears. 

"  I  have  been  thinking,  mama,  that  it  would  be  a 
polite  attention  to  invite  Betsy  Crewe  to  pass  a  week 
or  two  with  us.  And  there  is  poor  Polly  Clinton,  who 
needs  a  change,  since  she  has  just  been  nursing  her 
mother  in  bilious  fever.  They  can  come  by  the  stage 
coach  to  the  Green  Man,  whence  the  chariot  and  I 
will  fetch  them." 

"  Would  not  such  gay  creatures  feel  imposed  upon 
by  the  dullness  of  our  seclusion  ? "  replied  the  dowa 
ger,  snuffing  the  wind.  "  Might  they  not  be  expect 
ing  the  society  of  beaus  ? " 

"Even  so,"  answered  Lucilla,  smiling.  "I  fancy 
we  could  render  ourselves  endurable  to  one  or  two 


90  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

gentlemen  of  my  acquaintance  should  I  bid  them  to 
the  Manor." 

"Any  one  but  that  designing  Captain  Warriner," 
cried  her  mother,  unmasking  boldly.  "  I  '11  vow,  Lu- 
cilla,  I  can't  promise  to  treat  him  with  common  civility. 
And  I  fear  me  Captain  Hope  is  not  much  better." 

"  I  think  neither  one  of  those  you  mention  will  be 
likely  to  come  here  now,"  answered  Mrs.  Warriner, 
with  sudden  gravity.  "  On  the  whole,  we  will  leave 
Adam  out  of  our  Eden,  and  have  the  girls  alone." 

WHEN  Mrs.  Warriner's  traveling-chaise,  drawn  by 
four  fine,  mouse-colored  steeds  all  a-sweat,  pulled  up 
before  the  door  of  the  roadside  hostelry  known  as 
the  Green  Man,  where  it  was  the  custom  of  the 
stage-coach  from  New  York  to  stop  to  feed  passen 
gers  and  change  horses,  the  lady  inside  spied  waiting 
for  her  on  the  porch  two  roseate  faces,  enframed  in 
large  calashes  of  green  silk. 

These  were  none  other  than  her  expected  guests 
from  town,  who,  through  the  mischance  of  one  of  her 
horses  casting  a  shoe,  had  been  kept  waiting  at  the 
tavern  some  time  after  the  conveyance  that  brought 
them  had  jogged  northward. 

A  painter  in  genre  might  have  found  excuse  for  lin 
gering  upon  the  scene.  The  little  inn,  nestling  under 
the  shoulder  of  a  high  hill,  was  surrounded  by  an  old- 
world  garden  where  sunflowers  and  snapdragons 
blended  with  asparagus  and  onions.  At  the  back 
were  stables  and  coach-houses,  in  size,  like  the  sign 
board,  out  of  all  proportion  with  the  tiny  place.  In 
the  middle  distance  a  group  of  country  people  and 
children  stood  gaping  at  the  unwonted  presence  of 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOEK  91 

lady  visitors  in  greatcoats  of  dove-gray  lined  with  rose- 
color,  carrying  in  their  hands  flowered  band-boxes, 
and  surrounded  by  stylish  portmanteaus.  And  before 
the  steps  stood  a  vehicle  known  and  admired  over 
the  whole  countryside,  while  a  footman  was  just  let 
ting  down  the  steps  to  allow  the  exit  of  the  lady  of 
Warriner  Manor.  When  Lucilla  was  seen  to  sub 
merge  herself  successively  in  the  embraces  of  her 
Betsy  and  her  Polly,  there  was  a  general  feeling 
among  the  assemblage  that,  the  height  of  spectacular 
effect  having  been  attained,  they  might  as  well  be 
preparing  to  go  home. 

What,  therefore,  was  their  astonishment  when,  on 
the  receipt  of  information  from  one  of  the  new-comers, 
supplemented  by  a  breathless  announcement  from 
the  other,  interrupted  by  the  first  speaker,  and  then 
chorused  by  both,  Mrs.  Warriner  was  seen  to  totter 
and  grow  pale,  and  sink  again  into  the  arms  of  her 
friends.  The  landlord,  who  brought  her  a  glass  of 
water  and  received  the  usual  assurance  that  she  was 
"better  now,"  finally  helped  to  put  the  three  ladies 
into  the  chaise.  After,  with  much  pomp  of  footmen 
and  postilion,  the  vehicle  had  rolled  away,  the  specta 
tors  flocked  forward  to  know  what  had  occurred. 

Landlord  Nixon,  a  satisfactory  neighbor  in  that  he 
never  tantalized  by  holding  back  news  too  long,  was 
prompt  to  relieve  anxiety.  There  had  been  a  duel 
down  York  way — of  which  the  coach  had  previously 
brought  details— between  two  young  sprigs  of  the 
gentry,  fighting  for  heaven  knows  what.  A  Captain 
Hope,  the  challenged  party,  had  been  badly  wounded 
by  madam's  cousin,  Captain  Arnold  Warriner,  and 
was  not  expected  to  survive. 


VI 


0  one  need  say  a  word  to  me,  mama !  " 
cried  Lucilla,  stamping  her  foot  pas 
sionately.  "I  am  going  to  town  to 
look  after  him,  and  there  's  an  end  of 
it.  I  have  given  my  orders  to  my 
people,  and  nothing  on  earth  shall  stop  me.  If 
I  could  take  him  to  my  house  and  give  him  every 
thing  it  contains,  I  'd  do  so.  You  don't  know  how 
mean  and  base  I  've  been  to  him— to  send  back  all  of 
his  dear  letters  unread;  and  oh,  how  I  wish  I  had 
them  now ! 

"When  I  say  unread,  I  will  tell  you  the  truth, 
mama.  I  peeped  into  one  of  them,  and  it  said  he  is 
mine  till  death.  Mine  till  death,  and  I  not  go  to  him 
now  ?  If  I  had  n't  been  hard  as  a  flint,  and  so  jeal 
ous  I  could  n't  think,  I  'd  have  taken  his  word  then. 
Polly  says  he  has  never  been  near  that  girl  since,  and 
that  everybody  knows  it.  He  has  behaved  so  beauti 
fully  since  he  has  been  in  trouble  that  even  the  Presi 
dent  has  praised  and  commended  him.  To  think  I 
was  the  only  one  to  hold  back,  and  now— oh,  it  is  too 
cruel !  I  meant  to  bring  him  back  to  me  just  as  soon 
as  we  could  get  into  town,  when  there  'd  be  some  ex 
cuse  for  it.  Mama,  you  must  speak !  You  must  say 

92 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOEK  93 

you  are  sorry  for  me,  or  I  '11  never  confide  in  you 
again.  Don't  you  see  that  my  heart  is  breaking  ? " 

"  If  you  will  cease  speaking  yourself  long  enough 
to  give  me  a  chance,  Lucilla,"  said  Madam  Chester, 
dark  with  disapprobation,  "  I  should  be  glad,  at  least, 
to  ask  how  you  know  this  scandalous  duel  was  on 
your  account?" 

"  Polly  says  the  town  is  full  of  it.  Arnold  had 
failed  once  to  provoke  him  into  a  quarrel,  and  again 
that  same  night  repeated  the  insult  in  such  a  way  that 
Captain  Hope  could  not  avoid  taking  the  matter  up. 
They  met  at  daybreak  the  next  morning— the  day  lie 
wras  to  have  set  off  on  the  journey  that  promised  him 
such  honor  and  credit.  He  purposely  avoided  aiming 
at  Arnold,  who  in  return  shot  him. 

"  Oh,  the  monster  !  the  murderer  !  Mama,  he  won't 
die— you  don't  think  he  '11  die  till  I  get  there?  See, 
I  am  doing  my  best  to  be  brave  and  strong  and 
worthy  of  him.  If  he  only  had  known  I  love  him — if 
I  can  but  tell  him  so  once— I  '11  be  satisfied.  I  believe 
the  girls  don't  suspect  me.  No  one  but  you  knows 
that  if  he  dies  I  '11  never  smile  again.  They  think  I 
am  going  to  town  to  make  what  amends  I  can  for 
Arnold's  dastardly  act.  But  you  know,  mama— you 
know,  you  know !  " 

"  Lucilla,  my  child,  calm  yourself.  Your  eyes  are 
wild,  and  your  face  is  dreadfully  flushed.  Don't  you 
think  't  would  be  better  to  lie  down  ?  My  duty  as  a 
parent,  however  little  exercised,  cannot  be  put  aside, 
and  in  your  present  condition  I  should  consider  it  not 
only  an  impropriety,  but  madness,  for  you  to  go  to 
town." 


94  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

"  Madness  be  it,  then ! "  cried  Mrs.  "Warriner.  "  I 
have  made  all  my  preparations.  I  take  with  me 
Myrtilla,  and  Peter  on  the  box  with  the  coachman. 
Both  of  them  are  entirely  to  be  trusted,  and  will  suf 
fice  to  protect  me  in  an  emergency.  See,  there  comes 
the  chariot  to  the  door.  I  am  sorry  to  take  issue 
with  you  on  a  question  of  propriety,  but  of  this  I 
must  be  judge.  And  if  my  blood  is  hot,  there  '11  be 
time  a-plenty  for  it  to  cool  before  we  get  there. 
Good-by,  mama ;  and  be  sure  I  shall  ask  for  no  more 
of  your  sympathy." 

Sweeping  a  courtesy  to  the  angry  dowager,  she 
dashed  out  of  the  room.  Myrtilla,  waiting  in  the 
entry,  perilously  near  to  the  keyhole,  was  swept  along 
by  her  mistress's  impetuous  movement. 

Betsy  and  Polly,  perched  like  caryatids  one  on 
either  side  the  front  door,  received  Lucilla's  farewells 
with  differing  emotions.  Poor  little  Polly,  who  had 
long  ago  renounced  her  nascent  admiration  of  Lau 
rence  in  the  widow's  favor,  whispered  in  her  friend's 
ear  something  that  made  Lucilla  turn  and  kiss  her 
once  again  before  she  hurried  off. 

After  the  departure,  Miss  Crewe,  in  the  general  de 
nunciation  of  Arnold  Warriner,  kept  her  opinion  to 
herself.  She  was  afraid  to  advance  her  poor  little 
theory  that  perhaps  Captain  Warriner  had  received 
provocation  of  which  no  one  was  aware.  Madam 
Chester,  to  rid  herself  of  feelings  implanted  by  her 
daughter's  rebellious  action,  chose  frequently  to  turn 
the  conversation  to  the  crime,  previous  shortcomings, 
and  certain  doom  of  the  next  heir  to  the  Manor. 

Two  days  of  this  sort  of  thing  were  endured  by 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  95 

Miss  Betsy  in  subjugated  silence.  On  the  third,  dur 
ing  a  forecast  of  Arnold's  variety  of  punishment  in 
the  event  of  Hope's  death,  she  ran  out  of  the  room. 
Reappearing  with  red  eyes  and  a  distressed  aspect, 
she  offered  to  read  aloud  to  the  other  ladies  from 
"  The  Belle's  Stratagem,"  which  they  were  just  then 
enjoying  together;  then,  in  the  middle  of  the  read 
ing,  broke  down  in  a  passion  of  sobs  and  again 
disappeared. 

Miss  Polly,  a  gentle  little  soul,  sped  after  her  com 
rade,  and,  without  alluding  to  its  cause,  employed 
every  soothing  art  to  banish  her  Betsy's  grief.  From 
that  hour  she  displayed  also  much  finesse  in  always 
turning  the  chat  from  Captain  Warriner's  offense  to 
Bowen's  waxworks,  the  prospect  of  a  review  arid 
sham  fight  by  the  companies  of  militia  the  town 
could  boast,  the  theater  in  John  Street,  the  high  price 
of  house-rent  (her  papa  having  been  asked  to  pay 
forty  pounds  a  year  for  a  moderate  dwelling,  with 
stable),  the  hair-dressers'  getting  up  to  charge  twenty 
shillings  a  month,  the  excellence  of  M.  Singeron's 
marchpane  and  gilt  gingerbread,  whether  Miss  Cham 
pion's  color  was  her  own,  and  the  birth  of  Mrs. 
Johnson's  twins. 

We  who  are  privileged  to  read  Miss  Betsy's  thoughts 
may  know  that  day  and  night  she  dwelt  on  the  image 
of  the  captain,  who  had  won  her  heart,  vowing  to 
herself  that  if  the  whole  world  went  against  him  she 
would  not. 

The  last  stretch  of  the  road  was,  as  usual,  the  long 
est.  Lucilla,  who  had  come  post,  traveling  day  and 
night,  and  paving  her  way  with  gold  to  secure  the 


96  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

best  horses  at  every  stage,  was  at  close  of  day  but 
just  passing  into  the  scattered  village  of  Harlem, 
when  her  chariot,  that  had  been  dragging  slower  and 
slower,  came  to  a  full  stop. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  she  cried  impulsively,  let 
ting  down  the  glass  to  put  her  head  out  at  the 
window. 

A  dismal  evening !  After  a  day  of  hard  rain  a  fog 
had  crept  up  from  the  water  to  submerge  the  travel 
ers,  and  the  footman,  appearing  from  under  its  gray 
curtain  to  answer  his  lady's  call,  exuded  moisture  at 
every  pore. 

"  Light  the  lamps,  will  you  ? "  she  went  on.  "  I  can 
see  nothing.  And,  pray,  why  have  we  stopped  ? " 

"  It 's  the  beasts,  mistis.  They  won't  budge  another 
step,"  said  the  black  man  patiently,  while  proceeding 
to  take  out  of  his  pocket  a  tinder-box,  and  by  the  help 
of  flint  and  steel  to  cast  a  faint  illumination  from  the 
lamps  into  the  surrounding  gloom. 

"  Don't  be  so  stupid,  Peter,  or  I  '11  sell  you  to  some 
one  who  will  teach  you  better  sense.  How  dare  you 
pretend  these  horses  have  broken  down  ?  Tell  John 
Coachman  I  '11  sell  him,  too,  if  he  does  n't  make  them 
go  on." 

Peter,  grinning  at  a  time-worn  threat  among  her 
pampered  slaves,  answered  his  mistress  serenely : 

"  Ain't  no  use  telling  Coachman,  mistis ;  it  's  jes  a 
fac',  the  leaders  are  dead  beat,  an'  the  wheelers  most 
as  bad.  We  've  come  at  a  mighty  pace,  mistis,  an'  de 
mud  's  been  nigh  to  the  hubs  in  spots.  If  mistis  'u'd 
give  the  order  to  stop  at  Marse  Tom  Clapp's  tavern, 
a  little  piece  beyond  here,  we  might  be  so  lucky  as  to 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  97 

get  fresh  bosses— that  is,  if  mistis  must  go  on  to 
night." 

"Clapp's  Tavern?  We  are  near  there?"  cried 
Lucilla. 

"  Yes,  mistis ;  jes  a  little  piece  furder  on." 

The  resignation  in  Peter's  manner  did  not  deceive 
his  mistress.  Nor  did  the  hypocritical  calm  of  her 
maid,  Myrtilla,  who,  gaping  and  weary,  now  roused 
herself  from  her  nap  in  the  cushions  opposite  to  listen 
to  the  conversation.  Mrs.  Warriner  well  knew  that 
all  three  of  her  present  body-guard  were  acquainted 
with  the  merits  of  the  famous  road-house,  whither  the 
pleasure-seekers  of  Gotham  were  in  the  habit  of  driv 
ing  out  for  oyster  suppers,  turtle  feasts,  and  dances  at 
all  seasons  of  the  year.  More  than  once  had  Mrs. 
Warriner's  attendants  tasted  the  quality  of  its  good 
cheer.  "  I  don't  believe  a  word  you  say  about  the 
horses  !  "  she  exclaimed,  thoroughly  annoyed.  "  You 
are  a  pack  of  good-for-naughts,  who  think  of  nothing 
but  your  suppers." 

"  Supper  'd  be  might'  good  now,  mistis,"  replied 
the  stolid  Peter ;  "  an'  if  mistis  don'  trus'  me  'bout  the 
hosses,  she  's  on'y  got  to  git  down  an'  look  at  'em 
herself." 

Descending  to  the  muddy  ground,  Lucilla  followed 
Peter's  lantern  to  the  front,  to  find  it  as  he  had  said. 
With  drooped  heads  and  tails  quivering,  mired  to  the 
middle,  a  reek  of  steam  arising  from  their  sides,  the 
poor  brutes  gave  plain  evidence  of  their  exhausted 
state.  It  seemed  doubtful  that  they  could  pull  on  as 
far  as  Clapp's. 

But  amid  shouts  and  adjurations  2rom  the  men, 


98  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

and  much  cracking  of  the  whip,  the  heavy  chariot 
again  lumbered  forward,  shortly  coming  to  a  halt  be 
fore  a  long,  low  building,  whose  lights  shone  cheerful 
to  the  sight. 

Great  was  Tom's  astonishment  and  deference  when 
he  found  what  an  important  passenger  the  chariot 
contained.  He  conducted  Madam  Warriner  through 
the  ordinary,  with  its  pleasant  aspect  of  every  day, 
into  the  great,  bare  ball-room,  where  a  fire  pf  logs 
was  ordered  to  be  kindled  on  the  hearth,  then  stood 
before  her,  his  apron  swelling  with  a  sense  of  the 
honor  done  his  house.  To  her  demand  for  horses  he 
demurred  mournfully;  to  that  for  supper  for  her 
attendants  as  joyfully  assented. 

"Indeed,  ma'am,  the  best  the  house  affords  is  at 
your  orders ;  and  I  can  back  my  cook  to  serve  you  a 
dish  of  broiled  oysters  and  a  roast  partridge  that 
would  give  satisfaction  to  any  of  the  quality.  Would 
you  be  pleased  to  have  tea,  ma'am,  or  port- wine  negus, 
or  a  leetle  drop  of  punch— Tom  Clapp's  punch— with 
a  whiff  of  cognac,  a  dash  of  old  Jamaica,  a  squeeze 
of  lime-juice,  and  a  slice  of  Seville  orange  ?  Not  for 
getting  the  water,  though  you  must  have  had  your 
full  share  of  that  to-day,  ma'am.  Ho !  ho !  ho !  " 

"I  said  supper  for  my  servants,"  interrupted  the 
lady,  sharply.  "  The  quicker  the  better.  But  horses 
—horses  before  all.  Surely  you  must  have  a  pair  that 
will  take  me  on  to-night." 

"  Nothing  in  the  stables  at  present,  I  'm  ashamed 
to  say,  ma'am.  It  sha'n't  happen  again,  Madam  War 
riner.  There  's  just  a  chance  neighbor  Simmons 
may  n't  have  had  his  nags  out  to-day.  It 's  a  matter 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOEK  99 

of  half  a  mile  over  to  Simmons's,  and  I  '11  send  Ostler 
straightway.  Meanwhile  you  won't  refuse  my  cook 
the  honor  of  preparing  a  bite  for  you,  ma'am  ? " 

"  Go  quickly— send  quickly— bring  me  some  horses 
quickly,  and  you  may  prepare  anything  you  please," 
said  the  lady,  pacing  impatiently  back  and  forth. 
"  But  stay,  landlord— don't  hurry  off  so.  You  must 
have  later  news  than  I.  Has  anything  been  heard 
about  the  condition  of — of  the  gentleman  whom  my 
kinsman,  Captain  Warriner,  was  so  unfortunate  as  to 
wound  in  an  affair  of  honor  recently  ? " 

"  Surely,  ma'am  !  "  exclaimed  Clapp,  a  light  of  in 
telligence  breaking  upon  his  puzzled  face.  "  'T  would 
be  only  natural  for  you  to  feel  mortal  anxious  on  that 
score.  Such  a  fine,  noble  gentleman  as  Captain  War 
riner  is— so  free  with  his  money— many  's  the  treat 
he  's  paid  for  in  these  rooms— and  no  doubt  there 
was  trouble  behind  it  we  know  naught  about.  They 
do  say—" 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  answer  my  question,  and  spare 
me  what  they  say !  Is  Captain  Hope  recovering  ?  " 

"  Captain  Hope  was  alive  at  last  accounts,  ma'am, 
but  very  low.  A  party  in  Italian  chaises  drove  out 
yesterday  for  a  partridge  supper,  and,  if  you  '11  be 
lieve  me,  ma'am,  they  brought  Billy,  the  German  fid 
dler,  and  his  goblin  wife,  tucked  away  in  one  of  the 
vehicles.  Such  a  bow  as  Billy  handled  yesterday ! 
It 's  never  been  beat  under  my  roof.  The  little  dwarf 
outdid  himself.  They  do  say,  Madam  Warriner,  that 
Billy  was  taught  his  music  by  the  great  Mozart  him 
self.  And  the  dancing — such  pigeon  wings  and 
chasses !  Lord,  ma'am,  you  're  looking  ill !  Shall  I 


100  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

call  your  black  wench  for  you — or  my  wife  'u'd  be 
proud  to  wait  on  you  herself — " 

"You  said  Captain  Hope  was— very— low  ?"  she 
repeated  in  a  terrified  whisper. 

"  So  one  of  the  gentlemen  said  to  the  other  in  my 
hearing,  ma'am.  They  've  got  him  in  a  poor  enough 
house— a  joiner's  in  Sweetbrier  Lane,  near  where  they 
fought ;  but  he  's  the  best  medical  skill  in  the  city, 
and  friends  are  with  him,  and  the  gentry  are  flocking 
to  ask  for  him  all  day  long.  Nobody  thinks  of  aught 
but  Captain  Hope's  grave  situation.  That  's  not 
to  say  Captain  Warriner  has  no  friends,  Madam 
Warriner.  Just  at  present  he  's  keeping  out  of  the 
way,  and  nobody  knows  his  whereabouts.  But,  de 
pend  on  it,  he  '11  get  off  scot-free.  Everybody  makes 
allowance  for  the  hot  blood  of  these  buckish  young 
dandies.  I  would  n't  take  it  so  to  heart,  ma'am ;  that 
I  would  n't.  There,  her  color  's  coming  back,  Lord 
be  praised !  Shall  I  send  the  women  now  ? " 

"Send  no  one  but  your  man  to  fetch  the  horses. 
Pay  any  price,  and  the  sooner  you  get  them  here  the 
better  you,  too,  shall  be  paid.  Go !  " 

Boniface,  eager  to  communicate  some  of  his  varied 
emotions  to  curious  souls  in  the  coffee-room,  ran  off  at 
a  dog-trot,  and  Lucilla  dropped  into  a  chair  before  the 
fire,  which  had  now  blazed  up  smartly,  and  was 
diffusing  its  ruddy  glare  over  the  whole  room. 

"  '  Still  living,  but  very  low.'  Great  heavens,  what 
might  not  have  happened  since  this  was  said  yester 
day?  Friends  were  caring  for  him!  Who  could 
have  claimed  this  precious  privilege  ?  " 

If  he  could  only  know  that  she  loved  him,  that  the 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOEK  101 

going  out  of  his  young  life  would  plunge  hers  into 
darkness !  If  she  mig/it-aary:  kneel  at  •JiifT  side,  win 
from  his  dying  eyes  one1  l6ok  of  recognition,  press  a 
last  kiss  upon  his  lip's  i  /•,  •  •'•  ; •  .J J  J.  \  ,'•  • J.  • :  A 

No  matter  who  looked  on,  she  should  not  fear  to 
reveal  what  he  was  to  her.  The  world  with  its  thou 
sand  tongues,  its  hydra-headed  gossip,  was  nothing. 
Only  to  let  him  know  ! 

Perhaps — and  a  shiver  ran  through  her — he  was 
past  knowing  anything ;  it  might  be  he  was  already— 
Oh !  not  that,  not  that !  In  her  anguish  she  sprang 
upon  her  feet  and  looked  about  her,  trying  to  shake 
off  the  ghastly  fear.  The  large,  empty  room  with 
the  narrow  mirrors  and  hunting  prints  in  black 
frames  divided  by  oil-lamps  set  in  sockets  around  the 
walls,  the  prim  benches  covered  with  red  moreen, 
the  musicians'  dais  at  one  end,  the  dark  floor  pol 
ished  by  the  feet  of  many  dancers — how  they  brought 
back  the  day  last  winter,  soon  after  her  first  meet 
ing  with  Laurence  Hope,  when  they  had  been  together 
here! 

It  was  a  great  sleighing-party  that  came  out  from 
town  to  find  Tom  Clapp's  tavern  warmed  from  the 
core  by  mighty  fires,  and  decked  with  garlands  of 
spruce  and  holly.  Every  one  was  keyed  to  hilarity  by 
the  drive  in  crisp  air,  through  a  white  world,  under  a 
sky  of  dazzling  blue. 

Could  it  be  she,  Lucilla,— this  woe- worn  creature, 
— who  had  then  led  down  the  middle  of  the  reel  with 
Laurence  Hope  ? 

She  saw  herself  all  in  white  like  the  heart  of  a 
Lamarck  rose,  a  coif  bordered  with  swan's-down 


102  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

upon  her  proud  young  head,  a  laugh  upon  her  lips 
that  seemed  fixed  tl^ere  for  kli  time. 

When  the' dance'* was*  proposed,  her  cousin  and 
Hope  hM-s^tartea.  together  a'cross  the  room  to  secure 
her  as  a"  partner.  Hope  "had  reached  her  first,  and 
Arnold  had  fallen  back  in  vexation.  On  the  way  in 
to  town  she  had  accorded  to  Hope  the  place  beside 
her  occupied  in  going  out  by  Arnold.  Her  cousin 
had  taken  offense,  and  had  not  come  near  her  for  a 
week.  That  was  the  beginning  of  their  rivalry. 

Pure  coquetry  possessed  her  then.  Not  a  thought 
beyond  the  hour,  and  the  pride  of  absorbing  the  two 
handsomest  men  of  the  party.  After  that  day  Lau 
rence  had  piqued  her  by  seeming  to  draw  back.  She 
had  tried  to  make  him  feel  her  power ;  and  then  with 
out  warning  she  had  felt  his  power.  "  Her  mind  was 
crowned  with  him." 

Oh !  to  think  of  his  activity  laid  low ;  the  heart  she 
had  made  to  quicken  by  a  look  or  word  ceasing  to 
beat ;  the  hand  that  had  clasped  hers  warmly  growing 
chill.  And  all  for  her !  She  could  not  deceive  her 
self  on  this  point.  Arnold's  letters  had  shown  her 
his  growing  wrath  and  jealousy  of  Hope.  The  dark 
mystery  was  why  fate  had  brought  the  three  of  them 
together  in  this  room,  only  to  work  out  such  results. 

Lucilla  could  not  eat  the  food  they  brought  to  her. 
She  drank  tea  and  crumbled  bread,  chafing  at  the 
delay. 

The  lapse  of  what,  in  those  old  unhurried  days,  was 
really  a  short  time  for  securing  and  harnessing  new 
horses,  seemed  to  her  an  eternity. 

Through  the  night,  onward !     The  mist  from  the 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOEK  103 

river  deepened  until  all  save  a  few  yards  on  either 
side  and  ahead  of  the  chariot-lamps  was  swathed  in 
gray.  The  men  on  the  box,  recognizing  the  spirit 
that  impelled  them  from  within,  and  warmed  by  tank 
ards  of  Tom's  ale  after  a  liberal  supper,  urged  the 
horses  to  their  best  speed,  never  heeding  what  might 
be  in  the  Way.  Up  hill,  down  dale,  the  coach  rocked, 
plunging  through  mire  and  water,  and  taking  stones 
with  absolute  impartiality. 

Past  mansion  and  cottage  locked  in  the  silence  of 
the  fog,  along  the  highroad  from  Boston,  over  the 
Kissing  Bridge  at  Old  Wreck  Brook,  past  the  poor- 
house,  the  negro  burying-ground,  the  pot-bakers,  tan- 
yard,  ropewalk,  and  Jews'  graveyard.  John  Coach 
man  did  not  permit  himself  a  word  to  his  colleague 
till,  with  a  grunt  of  satisfaction,  he  drew  up  at  last 
before  the  Dog  and  Duck  tavern,  at  the  beginning  of 
the  Bowery. 

"  We 's  alive,  Peter,"  was  then  his  utterance. 

The  landlord  of  the  Dog  and  Duck,  bustling  out  to 
the  rencounter  of  customers  on  this  dripping  evening, 
was,  as  it  happened,  an  ex-soldier  of  Hope's  war  regi 
ment.  Lucilla,  knowing  this  fact  from  Hope  himself, 
had  ordered  a  stop  there,  in  the  belief  she  would  re 
ceive  definite  news  from  the  invalid. 

"  No  worse,  thank  God,  but  not  to  say  better ;  his 
life  hanging  on  a  thread,"  answered  the  man,  saluting 
to  the  inquiries  from  a  lovely  ghost  who  hung  out  of 
the  coach  window,  looking  as  if  she  would  devour 
him  with  her  eyes.  "  'T  was  to  one  Adamson's,  a 
joiner,  they  took  him  first,  and  there  he  lies  still,  poor 
gentleman.  'T  is  in  Sweetbrier  Lane,  madam,  a  little 


104  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

distance  from  the  old  City  Hospital,  behind  which 
they  fought  in  an  orchard  so  overgrown  't  was  a  hid 
ing-place  none  suspected.  If  the  captain  dies  the 
world  and  the  service  will  be  the  losers,  for  a  braver, 
nobler  young  officer  I  never  served  under— though  he 
but  a  lad  then,  and  I  with  gray  hairs  coming  at  the 
time." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  my  good  man ! "  she  cried  fer 
vently,  putting  a  shining  object  in  his  hand.  "  You 
are  very  good,  and  I  think  you  keep  the  nicest  tavern 
on  this  road.  To  Sweetbrier  Lane,  Peter;  and  tell 
Coachman  to  try  if  he  cannot  drive  a  little  fast." 

The  gold  in  his  palm,  from  which  he  turned  to 
stare  after  the  departing  chariot,  convinced  Corporal 
Stubbs,  late  of  the  Continental  Line,  that  he  was  not 
bewitched.  Narrating  the  incident  to  his  wife,  she 
called  him  a  fool  not  to  have  seen  how  matters  were 
from  the  first :  of  course 't  was  the  captain's  intended ; 
and  she  'd  thank  Stubbs  to  hand  that  guinea  over  to 
her  for  safe-keeping  before  he  should  spend  it  on  any 
old  loafer  that  might  come  limping  along  declaring 
himself  a  veteran  of  the  war. 

Inside  her  mud-bespattered  coach  Lucilla  cowered, 
striving  for  strength  to  encounter  what  might  be  to 
come.  She  thought  nothing  of  fatigue,  hunger,  the 
ordeal  of  the  journey.  Every  feeling  was  merged 
into  intense  present  anxiety.  And  now  the  lanterns 
of  the  town,  swinging  at  intervals  upon  ropes  stretched 
before  the  houses,  peered  at  them  dimly  through  the 
fog.  They  passed  quiet  little  homes,  whose  inmates 
had  already  gone  to  rest;  Dogberrys  prowling  moist 
and  solitary,  who  gazed  after  them  in  astonishment 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  105 

at  the  apparition ;  and  so  to  the  quarter  designated  by 
the  landlord  of  the  Dog  and  Duck. 

It  was  a  modest  suburb,  given  over  to  the  dwellings 
of  artisans,  who  esteemed  themselves  fortunate  in 
possessing  one  of  its  small,  detached  cottages  set  in 
gardens  on  either  side  of  an  unpaved  country  road. 
At  the  turn  into  Sweetbrier  Lane  a  smithy  in  full 
blast  threw  a  red  glare  upon  the  way,  making  it 
harder  for  the  horses  to  plunge  into  the  Stygian 
darkness  beyond.  They  came  finally  to  a  halt  before 
the  only  dwelling  wherein  there  was  a  light. 

And  to  this  humble  refuge  had  her  beloved  come  ? 
Poor  Lucilla,  stumbling  between  the  wet  bushes  of  a 
little  path  under  Peter's  escort,  felt  as  if  she  were 
wandering  in  a  dream.  The  sound  of  their  footsteps 
startled  from  his  attitude  of  utter  despondency  a  man 
sitting  on  a  bench  in  the  shelter  of  an  arbor  of  vines 
built  as  a  canopy  for  the  door-stone.  As  he  got  up 
with  a  dazed  air,  Lucilla  uttered  a  stifled  cry : 

"  Arnold  !  you  here  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  is  I,  Lucilla.  Don't  shrink  from  me,  please ; 
I  am  miserable  enough,  God  knows.  I  have  been 
coming  here  secretly  and  waiting  these  three  nights 
past  to  see — to  see  what  my  sentence  is  to  be.  I  could 
not  breathe  in  that  little  room  inside,  hearing  the 
clock  tick  and  the  noises  overhead.  Lucilla,  would 
you  mind  if  I  come  in  with  you  now  ?  It  is  cold,  and 
my  clothes  are  wet." 

"How  is  he?"  she  asked,  trying  to  keep  the  shud 
der  out  of  her  voice. 

"  Quiet  for  the  last  hour,  and  that  gives  hope.  If 
he  lives,  't  will  be  thanks  to  his  glorious  little  nurse. 


106  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

And  Adamson— there  are  no  words  for  his  pluck  and 
unselfishness  about  the  whole  affair.  He  feels  for 
me,  Lucilla,  if  you  can't.  He  has  given  me  leave  to 
come  and  go  in  his  house  as  I  will.  See,  the  door  is 
on  the  latch,  and  we  may  go  in.  Now  and  again  they 
come  down  to  tell  me  how  he  is.  If  you  could  bear 
to  be  alone  with  me,  send  your  servants  back,  and  we 
will  watch  together.  But  you  are  tired ;  you  have 
traveled  far.  Will  you  not  rather  go  home,  and  let  me 
see  that  you  have  the  first  news  of  a  change  ? " 

"  When  I  came  post  from  the  Manor  just  to  be  near 
him  ?  "  she  said,  tightening  her  lips. 

As  they  stepped  indoors,  his  dress,  brushing  hers, 
drew  from  her  a  movement  of  repulsion  that  Arnold 
did  not  miss.  The  faint  light  from  a  single  taper  in 
a  saucer  of  fragrant  bay-berry  wax  upon  the  mantel 
shelf  showed  each  the  other's  face— hers  pale,  care 
worn,  his  haggard,  pleading,  wretched.  His  dis 
colored  clothes  were  saturated  with  dampness,  his 
eyes  heavy  for  want  of  sleep,  his  expression  that  of 
one  on  the  verge  of  extremity. 

"Lucilla,  don't  turn  from  me.  If  I  never  have 
another  chance,  let  me  tell  you  here  and  now  that, 
before  God,  I  did  not  mean  to  kill  him.  My  hand 
wavered  when  I  saw  he  would  not  aim  at  me,  and  a 
cloud  came  over  my  brain.  I  saw  myself  as  I  was, 
and  confusion  filled  my  heart.  I  was  totally  unnerved 
when  I  fired  the  fatal  shot.  Lucilla,  Adamson  believes 
me ;  and  he  loves  Hope  like  a  brother.  If  the  worst 
comes  to  the  worst,  I  am  prepared  to  make  atonement 
by  giving  my  own  poor  life.  Should  he  die  to-night  I 
shall  not  be  living  by  to-morrow." 


IN  OLD  NEW  YOEK  107 

"  Arnold,  is  that  the  part  of  a  brave  man  ? "  she 
said,  a  sense  of  pity  coming  into  her  aching  heart. 
"  Will  you  not  promise  me  to  dismiss  such  terrible 
thoughts  from  your  mind,  and,  if  it  is  as  you  say,  to 
try  rather  to  live  down  your  misfortune  ? " 

"  I  can  no  longer  judge  between  right  and  wrong. 
My  misery  has  left  me  weak  and  dizzy.  For  days  to 
have  wandered  like  Cain,  hiding  from  the  sight  of 
men,  knowing  I  had  lost  you  forever,  and  carrying 
this  awful  weight—" 

"  I  feel  for  you,  Arnold,  truly,"  she  replied,  stretch 
ing  out  her  hand. 

He  would  not  take  it,  but  fell  on  his  knees  beside 
her,  clutching  at  the  hem  of  her  garment  and  crying 
like  a  child. 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Lucilla,  starting  suddenly,  a  rush  of 
color  coming  into  her  cheeks. 

There  was  a  sound  of  footsteps  on  the  narrow  stairs. 
A  man  whom  Lucilla  did  not  know  came  into  the  room, 
and,  seeing  her,  stopped  in  astonishment,  looking  from 
her  to  Arnold,  who  had  risen  and  turned  away  his  face. 

"  I  am  Mrs.  Warriner,"  explained  the  lady,  with  all 
her  stately  grace.  "  It  has  been  very  painful  to  come 
and  find  my  cousin  here,  as  you  may  know.  But  oh, 
speak  !  you  have  news ;  tell  me— no,  no,  don't ;  I  can't 
bear  it  yet,  if  it 's  not  good.  Tell  me  only  that  he— 
that  he-" 

11  He  will  live !  "  said  another  voice,  as  Lucilla's  was 
choked  with  tears.  It  was  Eve  who  spoke,  coming 
out  of  the  shadow  of  the  little  entry  to  be  among 
them— Eve,  pale  and  worn,  and  the  light  of  a  great 
joy  on  her  face. 


108  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

In  her  moment  of  supreme  relief,  Lucilla  was  con 
scious  of  a  new,  dull  pain. 

"  He  is  sleeping  sweetly,  and  the  fever  is  all  gone," 
went  on  the  girl,  joyfully,  "  and  the  physicians  have 
told  us  that  if  this  were  so  to-night  he  will  get  well." 

Arnold  Warriner,  shaking  like  a  leaf,  turned  and 
strode  from  the  room,  followed  by  Adamson. 

"  And  now  that  you  are  here,"  added  Eve,  with  ex 
quisite  self-effacement,  "  he  will  do  even  better  soon. 
If  he  should  wake  and  find  you  near,  instead  of  Luke 
and  me,  it  would  seem  like  heaven  to  him.  Since  the 
first  he  has  thought  of  you,  called  for  you,  till  my 
heart  ached  because  I  could  n't  satisfy  him.  Ah, 
madam,  should  you  need  assurance,  believe  me,  't  is 
you  only  and  always  that  have  possessed  his  love." 

"  This  from  you !  "  stammered  Lucilla,  wondering. 
"You,  whose  happiness  it  was  to  come  first  to  him 
when  he  fell— whose  right  it  is  to  stay  by  him  in  this 
house—" 

"  It  was  my  happiness  to  be  of  service  to  the  child 
of  my  dearest  friends  and  benefactors.  And  I  have 
the  right  to  remain  in  this  house,"  she  went  on,  her 
voice  breaking,  but  holding  her  head  bravely  aloft, 
"  because  I  am  its  owner's  wife." 

The  words  were  scarce  uttered  when  Lucilla,  born 
again  to  radiant  happiness  and  love  and  beauty, 
threw  her  fair  arms  around  the  other's  neck  and 
clasped  her  to  her  breast. 

"  Married— married  to  another  man  !  And  I  could 
so  misjudge  you  as  to  think  you  wanted  him  !  Oh !  I 
have  been  so  afraid  of  you,  have  so  dreaded  lest  you 
should  some  day  draw  him  away  from  me  !  But  I  see 


IN  OLD  NEW  YORK  103 

now  how,  as  usual,  I  have  done  wrong ;  I  see  that  you 
are  an  angel  of  good  news ;  and  since  you  have  saved 
him  for  me,  I  could  go  down  on  my  knees  to  thank  you 
and  ask  your  pardon.  Let  me  be  your  friend,  your 
sister.  Bring  your  good  husband  back  again,  that  I 
may  kiss  his  hand  and  bless  him  for  his  goodness  to 
my  Laurence.  For  mine  he  is.  I  shall  win  him  to  full 
health,  and  make  his  life  a  glory  with  my  love. 

"  What !  crying  now,  dear  soul,  when  all  is  well  ? 
Fie  !  you  and  I  must  smile  together,  and  I  must  save 
your  strength  and  let  you  rest.  Go,  find  my  cousin— 
bid  him  take  my  coach  and  servants  and  use  my  house 
as  his  own,  and  say  I  shall  stay  here.  If  you  '11  have 
me,  that  is— and  you  won't  turn  me  out,  will  you?— 
me  that  have  come  so  far  ?  And  then  take  me  to  him. 
Never  fear  I  '11  disturb  him.  I  '11  nurse  him  gently  as 
I  would  a  cradled  babe.  Ah,  I  can't  wait ;  take  me  to 
him— quick,  quick,  quick !  " 

Eve  bowed  her  head.  She  could  not  trust  herself 
to  answer,  now  that  her  sacrifice  was  made  complete. 
She  could  not  tell  Lucilla  that  she  had  married  Luke 
the  morning  after  the  duel — married  Luke  because 
otherwise  there  would  have  been  no  chance  for  her  to 
be  with  Laurence  and  give  him  her  hourly  care. 

Presently,  hand  in  hand,  the  two  women  went  up 
the  stairs. 


PART  II 
IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY 


PART  II 
IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY 


EX  ADAMSON  sat  after  dinner  with 
his  father  on  the  first  evening  of  his 
return  from  a  voyage  around  the  world. 
It  had  been  bitter  weather  on  the  North 
Atlantic — a  succession  of  storms  strew 
ing  the  home  coast  with  wrecks,  and  sending  many 
a  ship  adrift  at  the  mercy  of  the  waters,  to  be  heard 
from  days  afterward,  or  never. 

Rex  had  enjoyed  the  distinction  of  steaming  up 
New  York  Bay  in  a  huge  ocean  liner  completely 
sheathed  in  ice,  her  decks  and  rigging  looking  as  if 
hewn  from  Pentelic  marble,  rosy  with  morning  sun — 
a  sight  of  a  lifetime  for  the  eyes  waiting  her  on  shore 
to  greet  her  arrival. 

His  father  had  been  among  those  who  had  more  or 
less  reason  to  welcome  home  passengers  thus  deliv 
ered  from  the  perils  of  the  deep.  Rex  had  never  be 
fore  seen  in  the  paternal  countenance,  as  viewed  from 
the  deck  while  the  ship  was  pulling  in  beside  her  pier, 
the  look  of  yearning  of  a  parent  for  his  beloved  off 
spring. 

8  113 


114  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

It  made  Rex  feel  rather  uncomfortable  and  shy. 
He  could  hardly  believe  that  the  usually  shrewd  and 
unemotional  face  of  Job  Adamson,  the  famous  finan 
cier,  was  drawn  into  lines  resembling  that  of  an  old 
woman  about  to  cry.  But  the  shabby  old  derby  hat 
tilted  backward,  the  rusty  overcoat,  and  hands  covered 
with  woolen  mittens— garments  that  among  New- 
Yorkers  of  the  business  world  had  long  inspired  an 
appreciative  sense  of  a  power  that  was  fairly  rever 
enced—left  no  doubt  of  Job's  identity. 

"The  old  boy  is  cut  up  since  my  poor  mother's 
death,"  thought  the  son — though  he  was  ashamed  to 
consider  the  phenomenon  with  a  feeling  so  imper 
sonal.  "  How  strange,  when  they  were  always  spar 
ring  over  her  ambitious  schemes  for  me !  The  ques 
tion  is,  am  I  glad  she  carried  her  point,  and  gave  me 
every  advantage  of  foreign  training  and  wide  ac 
quaintance  ?  Hum !  Can't  answer  yet,  till  I  've  been 
shaken  into  place  a  bit.  Jove !  I  'd  forgotten  what  a 
queer  outfit  the  pater  wears.  And  he  looks  shriveled, 
somehow.  Who  'd  believe  they  'd  kotow  to  me  on  ac 
count  of  his  name,  in  all  sorts  of  odd  corners  of  the 
globe  ? 

"He  's  not  written  me  a  line  in  six  months— only 
cabled  to  acknowledge  my  letters.  Well,  if  he  does 
care,  there  '11  be  one  more  to  welcome  me  than  I  ex 
pected  on  Columbia's  shores,  since  Jack  's  out  West. 
Bru-r-r !  Cold  as  Greenland,  and  looks  like  it,  too. 
What  a  snowfall  they  've  had  !  No  wonder  all  those 
people  huddled  down  there  seem  frozen  up  and  life 
less." 

When  Rex  walked  down  the  gang-plank,  for  the 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF   TO-DAY  115 

first  time  in  his  recollection  his  father  smiled  as  he 
shook  his  hand. 

"  I  'm  glad  you  're  all  right,"  said  the  elder,  briefly. 
"There  was  a  meeting  of  the  directors  of  Y.  &  Z. 
Company  this  morning,  but  I  excused  myself  and 
left  them  to  come  down  to  meet  you.  You  '11  get  up 
to  the  house  alone,  I  suppose,  unless  you  want  to 
stop  at  your  club  for  luncheon  ?  I  '11  join  you  at  din 
ner-time.  Bad  trip,  was  n't  it  ? " 

"The  toughest  I  ever  made.  The  waves  regular 
corkers,  looked  sixty  feet  high,  and  she  cutting  right 
through  the  crest  of  'em.  For  three  days  the  water 
poured  over  the  decks  like  a  mill-race.  But  she  be 
haved  like  a  duck,  bless  her ;  and  here  we  are.  Very 
good  of  you,  sir,  to  take  the  trouble  to  meet  me.  As 
soon  as  I  can  get  my  luggage  out  of  the  maw  of  your 
customs  officials,  I  '11  be  off  to  see  your  new  palace. 
It  '11  be  like  a  fairy-tale,  I  'm  sure— the  way  Americans 
always  do  things." 

"  '  Your '  customs — why  did  n't  you  say '  you  Ameri 
cans,'  Rex  ?  "  asked  the  older  man,  peevishly. 

"  Never  mind,  father ;  I  '11  get  straight  in  a  day  or 
two,"  said  Rex,  good-humoredly.  He  recognized  a 
reproof  dating  from  his  first  return  from  an  English 
university,  whither  his  mother  had  insisted  upon  his 
going. 

As  he  drove  in  a  cab  up-town  through  blizzard- 
smitten  streets,  between  banks  of  high-piled  snow, 
along  house-fronts  fringed  at  top  with  drooping  white 
mantles,  Rex  whistled  in  astonishment  at  the  desolate 
appearance  of  the  city  of  his  nativity.  He  felt  as 
forlorn  as  Macaulay's  New-Zealander  on  the  ruins  of 


116  THE  CIRCLE  OP  A  CENTURY 

London  Bridge.  But  in  Fifth  Avenue  there  "was  a 
semblance  of  returning  life,  and  his  spirits  began  to 
rise. 

Eastward  of  Central  Park  the  cab  came  to  a  final 
halt  in  its  toilsome  progress  before  the  portal  of  one 
of  the  lordliest  of  the  many  palaces  in  that  locality — 
a  dwelling  from  which  upholsterers  with  their  step- 
ladders  and  hammers,  and  delayed  decorators,  had 
not  yet  fled. 

"  By  Jove ! "  thought  the  young  man,  as  he  followed 
the  new  butler  and  footman  inside  the  spacious,  mel 
low-tinted  hall.  "  The  thing  's  actually  well  done." 

He  had  found  reason  to  repeat  this  eulogy  more 
than  once  before  the  servants,  withdrawing  after 
dinner,  left  the  two  men  to  themselves.  The  slaves 
of  the  lamp  that  in  former  days  were  so  difficult  to 
secure  in  New  York,  no  matter  what  the  money  paid, 
had  come  at  the  call  of  an  expert  housekeeper  and 
butler,  both  of  English  origin,  to  supply  his  every 
want.  Remembering  the  old  house  farther  down  the 
avenue,  wherein  his  mother  had  fussed  over  incapable 
domestics  during  all  his  visits  home,  Rex  could  hardly 
refrain  from  expressing  his  glad  astonishment  at  this 
reform.  But  he  thought  it  better  to  take  the  whole 
business  of  translation  into  new  splendor  as  a  matter 
of  course,  until  his  father  should  choose  to  invite  his 
comments. 

The  great  room,  arranged  for  a  girdle  of  electricity 
above  the  pictures,  was  now  left  in  shadow,  save  for  a 
few  side-lights  and  the  gleam  of  candles  on  the  round 
table  that  stood  like  an  island  of  snow  in  a  sea  of 
Turkey  rugs,  aided  by  the  flicker  from  logs  burning 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  117 

in  a  deep  hearth  underneath  a  fine  old  carved  mantel 
piece,  carried  off  bodily  from  an  impoverished  schloss 
in  Germany. 

All  over  the  place  Rex  had  been  running  upon 
spoils  of  the  Old  World  assembled  with  marvelous 
cleverness  to  deck  this  mansion  of  an  American  who 
did  not  know  a  Gobelin  tapestry  from  a  landscape  rug 
woven  in  Connecticut.  Pictures,  books,  carvings,  ar 
mor,  lacquers,  bronzes,  floor-coverings,  walls,  and  fur 
niture  were  eminently  well  chosen  and  well  brought 
together.  Only  the  drawing-rooms,  boudoir,  and  an 
up-stairs  sitting-room  were  left  partly  in  the  rough, 
with  the  doors  closed  on  them,  which  Rex  had  noted 
with  a  shrug  and  smile. 

"  I  'm  glad  you  like  the  house,"  said  his  father,  under 
the  exhilaration  of  three  glasses  of  iced  water  drunk 
during  dinner  and  a  cup  of  black  coffee  afterward. 
"I  had  the  best  man  there  is,  and  told  him  to  go 
ahead  and  do  it  as  if  he  meant  to  move  in  here  him 
self.  I  guess  that  put  him  on  his  mettle.  I  had 
nothing  to  do  but  sign  the  checks,  luckily.  This  last 
has  been  'bout  as  busy  a  year  as  I  remember." 

"  There  must  have  been  a  good  lot  of  your  auto 
graphs  sent  out,"  said  Rex,  indifferently. 

"Well,  I  guess  the  year's  work  has  paid  for  it," 
answered  his  father,  the  muscles  around  his  mouth 
relaxing  faintly.  "I  promised  her  I  'd  do  the  thing 
in  style,  and  it  seems  I  have." 

"  You  have,  certainly,  and  I  congratulate  you.  Poor 
mother !  I  wish  she  could  have  lived  to  see  it !  She 
was  a  woman  of  such  boundless  energy,  I  can't  think 
of  her  as  forever  still.y 


118  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

"  She  was  a  good  wife  to  me,  and  a  good  mother 
to  you,  though  there  were  some  mistakes  that  never 
can  be  righted.  If  the  others  had  lived  it  would  n't 
ha'  mattered  so  much,  but  I  've  no  stock  in  a  name 
like  Reginald.  Lukes  and  Jobs  and  Johns  and 
Samuels  we  've  had  a-plenty  since  the  first  of  us 
settled  in  America;  and  I  carried  my  point  'bout 
naming  the  four  boys  born  before  you.  But  Mis' 
Adamson— your  mother,  I  should  say— wa'n't  lucky 
in  raising  any  of  her  children  past  babyhood,  till  you 
came  along.  Then  she  would  n't  have  any  of  the  old 
names  used  over  again  for  the  child  of  our  middle 
age.  Said 't  would  be  tempting  Providence.  And  I  let 
her  have  her  way.  Reginald  !  I  declare,  I'm  sometimes 
ashamed  to  write  it  in  a  check." 

Rex,  accustomed  to  the  old  grievance,  laughed  aloud 
—a  hearty,  boyish  laugh  that  did  him  good,  and  in 
sensibly  brightened  his  father's  fretful  face. 

"  So  long  as  your  feelings  don't  compel  you  to  with 
hold  that  kind  act  altogether,  I'll  get  along,  father. 
And  as  to  the  name  it 's  linked  to,  I  sometimes  think 
you  'd  be  more  forbearing  with  foreign  countries  if 
you  could  see  what  weight  that  carries  everywhere 
with  people  who  read  newspapers  and  can  appreciate 
honorable  success.  True,  it 's  nearly  ruined  me  some 
times,  by  turning  all  the  harpies  on  me,  in  good  so 
ciety  and  out  of  it.  Do  you  know,  sir,  I  can't  get 
anybody  to  believe  you  've  never  crossed  the  sea  ? " 

"  America 's  good  enough  for  me,"  replied  Mr. 
Adamson,  a  smile  visible  only  in  a  few  additional 
wrinkles  around  his  eyes.  "  I  did  n't  care  a  continen 
tal  'bout  a  new  house  for  myself.  But 't  was  her  plan. 


IN  NEW  YOEK  OF  TO-DAY  119 

She  wanted  I  should  build  it  against  the  time  you  got 
tired  of  roving  and  came  home  to  settle  down.  She  'd 
have  come  out  in  fine  society,  no  doubt.  Mis'  Adam- 
son— your  mother,  I  should  say— was  a  powerful  am 
bitious  woman,  in  some  ways.  I  felt  sort  of  driven 
to  get  it  done  before  you  got  here.  Perhaps  I  wa'n't 
always  what  she  deserved  to  have  me  be." 

"  Your  architect  brought  conscience  to  his  work," 
said  the  young  man,  looking  about  him  critically. 
"  I  might  as  well  own  up  I  expected  to  have  my  teeth 
set  on  edge,  remembering  that  other  poor,  dear,  awful 
old  shanty  of  ours." 

"  'T  was  a  fine  house  in  its  day,"  answered  Job. 
"  She  always  said  we  'd  educated  you  above  our  tastes, 
and  she  wanted  we  should  try  and  catch  up  with  you. 
This  one  is  nice  enough,  I  s'pose,  but  too  darned  big. 
I  've  given  up  trying  to  sleep  in  the  room  they  fixed 
up  for  me,  and  have  got  an  iron  bedstead  in  the  dress 
ing-room.  The  library 's  'bout  the  best  of  the  bunch, 
to  my  thinking.  I  sit  there  of  a  morning  to  read  my 
newspaper  before  I  go  down-town — in  that  window 
where  the  sun  comes  in.  Sometimes  I  doze  in  there 
of  an  evening,  or  play  solitaire  before  I  go  to  bed. 
Your  mother  and  I  used  to  play  cribbage  together  of 
an  evening." 

"  Poor  old  dad,  this  house  is  too  big  for  you  alone  ! " 
said  the  son,  with  an  impulse  of  sympathy.  "  Now 
I  'm  home  for  good,  we  must  try  to  brighten  it." 

"  It 's  to  be  yours  when  you  marry,  Rex ;  and  then 
I  '11  get  out  and  go  back  to  the  old  one.  They  wanted 
me  to  let  that,  but  I  would  n't.  I  've  kept  every  stick 
of  the  furniture  as  it  was,  and  left  a  man  and  his 


120  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

wife  to  care  for  it,  just  as  if  I  were  going  to  step  in 
any  day." 

"  It  711  be  a  long  time  before  you  step  out  of  here, 
old  gentleman !  "  exclaimed  Rex,  who  was  not  a  lady's 
man,  and  had,  as  suggested,  so  far  successfully  eluded 
all  efforts  to  constrain  his  freedom  from  mothers  and 
daughters  in  two  hemispheres,  to  say  nothing  of 
widows  on  shipboard  and  all  manner  of  women  to 
whom  the  name  of  Adamson  and  American  millions 
were  synonymous. 

"  Father,  speaking  of  names,  have  you  no  record 
of  your  progenitors?  Not  that  it  makes  the  least 
difference  to  me  to  have  anybody  behind  me  except 
you  and  my  splendid  old  grandsire,  whose  portrait 
I  'm  glad  to  see  you  have  hung  out  yonder  in  the  hall. 
His  was  an  astonishing  personality.  Fellows  whom 
I  tell  about  him  won't  believe  how  he  made  his  pile 
from  sheer  sagacity  and  mastery  of  men.  He  knew 
how  to  choose  his  tools  better  than  any  one  I  ever 
heard  of.  There  must  have  been  something  in  his 
veins  that  came  down  to  him  from  earlier  sources — 
some  strong  woman,  probably ;  and  I  'd  like  to  make 
her  acquaintance,  even  now." 

"  It 's  little  I  know  'bout  'em,"  replied  Job,  reflec 
tively.  "  My  father,  as  you  know  well,  was  too  busy 
a  man  to  talk  much,  and  he  put  me  to  business  just 
as  soon  as  I  was  out  of  school.  All  he  ever  told  me 
was  his  people  had  moved  out  of  New  York  city 
down  into  Long  Island  when  he  was  a  kid,  the  last 
to  survive  out  of  their  family  of  five  sons.  Queer 
there  ain't  ever  been  more  'n  one  son  to  a  generation 
of  us  that  reached  middle  life.  They  were  North  of 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  121 

Ireland  folks.  I  know  that.  And  there  's  a  family 
Bible  that  turned  up  when  we  were  moving  that  7s 
got  all  their  names  and  dates.  My  father  was  Samuel, 
his  father  was  Luke,  and  my  name  came  from  a  great 
grandfather  named  Job  Watson. 

"When  I  was  a  little  shaver,  I  remember  well 
father  taking  me  down  to  spend  Sundays  with  my 
grandmother  on  Long  Island ;  but  she  died  when  I  was 
still  a  boy,  and  that  was  the  end  of  7em.  Her  husband, 
Luke  Adamson,  was  a  master  builder  in  New  York 
when  't  was  the  seat  of  government,  and  after ;  and 
he  laid  up  a  good  sum  of  money  for  those  days ;  but 
they  lost  one  child  after  another,  just  like  us,  and 
moved  to  the  country  to  try  to  save  my  father,  so  he 
always  said.  You  hit  the  nail  on  the  head,  Rex,  when 
you  said  there  was  a  strong  woman  behind  us.  Take 
her  all  in  all,  I  don't  believe  there  was  ever  such 
another  as  my  grandmother  Adamson." 

^  What  was  her  Christian  name  ? "  asked  Rex, 
wondering  at  his  own  late-found  interest  in  these 
questions  of  genealogy. 

"  The  name  of  the  mother  of  all  humanity— plain 
Eve ;  though  she  was  anything  but  plain.  As  I  re 
member  the  old  lady,  she  'd  been  a  widow  for  some 
years,  but  was  dressed  always  in  gray,  with  a  kind  er 
crimped  white  cap.  Her  face  at  seventy-odd  was  as 
near  like  an  angel's  as  ever  I  expect  to  see  one,  and 
her  hair  high-colored  reddish,  her  step  as  light  and 
her  back  as  straight  as  a  girl's.  My  mother  was 
jealous  of  her,  I  reckon,  as  there  wa'n't  much  socia 
bility  between  ;em.  My  mother  was  a  cl'ar-grit  Yan 
kee  girl  from  Massachusetts ;  a  fine  woman,  but  shut 


122  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

up  in  herself.  Father  did  n't  get  to  see  grandmother 
as  often  as  he  'd  ha'  liked.  But  she  'd  plenty  to  do, 
sick-nursing  and  missionarying  her  neighbors,  and 
entertaining  the  elders  of  her  church.  There  was 
a  room  set  aside  for  them,  kept  white  as  a  lily, 
sir.  I  was  always  afraid  to  set  foot  across  the  sill. 
You  won't  laugh,  Rex,  if  I  tell  you  I  bought  back 
that  little  house  last  year,  and  am  getting  it  repaired 
and  fenced  in,  to  keep  in  memory  of  her." 

"  I  like  my  great-grandmother  Eve.  Tell  me  some 
more  of  her,"  said  the  young  man,  surprised  by  the 
flush  of  interest  in  the  speaker's  parchment  face. 

"  Father  always  said  she  'd  taught  him  honesty  and 
justice  first,  then  to  be  brisk  and  act  when  the  mo 
ment  came.  She  'd  more  common  sense  than  any 
woman  he  ever  saw,  he  said,  and  an  A  1  temper 
(which  my  mother  had  n't),  but  was  never  over-gay. 
Sort  of  sad,  and  no  end  pious— and  particular,  you  'd 
think.  He  'd  never  been  let  set  foot  in  a  theater, 
and  would  n't  touch  a  card.  She  's  buried  down  yon 
der  in  the  little  graveyard  at  Chinquasset  Cove,  and 
last  year  I  put  a  monument  over  her  as  high  as  my 
wife's— the  best  money  could  buy. 

"You  see,  when  a  man  comes  to  my  time  of  life, 
and  is  living  all  alone,  he  begins  to  think  of  these 
kind  of  things,  Eex.  I  never  was  much  of  a  one  for 
sentimental  notions ;  but  nowadays— sometimes— this 
last  night  or  two  especially,  when  the  storm  was 
raging  and  I  was  thinking  about  your  ship—" 

He  stopped,  and  took  another  sip  of  water  from  a 
carafe  left  at  his  hand.  Rex  did  not  say  a  word, 
greatly  to  Job's  relief. 


IN  NEW  YOEK  OF  TO-DAY  123 

"I  s'pose  if  those  good  folks  could  look  in  on  us 
now  they  'd  wonder,"  Mr.  Adamson  resumed.  "  They 
thought  themselves  mightily  set  up  with  a  sitting- 
room  and  best  bedroom  over  and  above  the  wants  of 
the  family.  Father  said  his  mother  kept  her  house 
like  honeycomb;  and  I  never  walk  along  West 
Twenty-third  Street  and  smell  that  lavender  the 
peddlers  sell  on  trays  without  thinking,  somehow, 
of  my  grandma.  There,  now,  boy,  I  've  told  you 
all  I  know.  Some  day  we  '11  get  out  the  family  Bible 
and  have  a  regular  orgy  of  ancestors  and  dates.  Say, 
Rex,  d'  ye  know  some  of  these  Revolutionary  so 
cieties  were  after  me,  the  other  day,  to  become  a 
member?  Think  they  'd  be  satisfied  with  grand 
father  Luke  and  great-grandfather  Job  as  my  contri 
butions  ?  No,  sir !  I  rather  beg  to  be  excused.  No 
pretense  about  me.  I  'm  satisfied  to  be  Samuel  L. 
Adamson's  son  and  representative.  The  fortune  my 
father  left  me  I  Ve  doubled  and  trebled,  but  I  Ve 
never  put  on  frills." 

''The  L  stood  for  Laurence,  did  n't  it,  in  my 
grandfather's  name?  Now,  why  in  the  dickens 
did  n't  you  dub  me  that  instead  of  your  hated 
Reginald?  And,  by  the  way,  where  did  the  Lau 
rences  come  into  our  family  annals  ? " 

"It 's  a  queer  thing.  I  asked  father  the  same  ques 
tion  once,  and  he  told  me  it  was  given  him  in  recol 
lection  of  one  of  his  mother's  '  earliest  and  dearest 
friends.'  Those  were  her  very  'words  when  he  in 
quired  of  her,  as  boys  will,  where  he  got  his  middle 
name." 

"  That  reminds  me,"  exclaimed  Rex,  rebounding  to 


124  THE  CIECLE  OP  A  CENTUEY 

the  present,  "  that  a  man  came  over  in  the  ship  with 
me— a  capital  young  fellow— named  Laurence  Hope. 
He  's  in  Hartley,  Lauder  &  Odenheimer's  law  firm, 
and  they  sent  him  across  the  ocean  to  question  a 
fellow  they  wanted  to  get  as  a  witness  in  the  Spang 
will  case,  and  had  failed  to  find  in  this  country. 
Hope  spent  only  three  days  on  the  other  side,  found 
his  man  in  a  hunting-box  at  Melton  Mowbray,  got  an 
interview  with  him,  and  returned.  I  asked  him — 
once  when  the  steamer  was  alternately  standing  on 
her  head  and  carrying  it  high  in  air  in  the  midst  of 
our  worst  gale,  and  we  were  all  battened  down  below 
— what  he  thought  of  the  Spang  will  case ;  and  he 
told  me  to  go  to  thunder.  I  don't  know  when  I  've 
met  anybody  I  liked  so  much  on  short  acquaintance 
as  that  lad.  Who  are  they,  do  you  know?  I  'm 
awfully  behind  on  my  New  York." 

"They  've  put  a  'Social  Register 'on  the  library 
table,"  answered  his  father,  dryly ;  "  and  I  think  it  '11 
be  better  worth  your  while  to  study  that,  and  leave 
the  family  Bible  be.  Seems  to  me  I  've  heard  of  the 
Hopes  somewhere,  though." 

"  It  appears  they  live  in  an  old-fashioned  house  in 
an  old-fashioned  quarter—  some  '  Place '  or  other,  of 
which  the  name  escapes  me.  I  should  judge  they  are 
rather  poorish ;  and  I  know  there  's  a  pretty  sister, 
for  he  showed  me  her  photograph  one  day  on  the 
Banks  when  it  was  blowing  holy  Moses,  and  we  were 
trying  to  hang  on  by  our  eyelids  in  the  smoke-room. 
And  he  knows  Jack  Warriner.  Confound  it,  I  wish 
old  Jack  were  in  town !  " 

At  this  moment  the  butler,  returning  on  tiptoes 


IN  NEW  YOEK  OF  TO-DAY  125 

with  a  confidential  air,  announced  that  Mr.  John 
Warriner  had  called,  and  wished  to  know  whether 
Mr.  Rex  could  see  him  now,  or  should  he  come  back 
later. 

"  Come  back  later  ?  Great  snakes,  tell  him  to  come 
in  here!"  cried  Rex,  delighted.  "Father,  this  is 
the  best  luck  I  've  struck.  No,  don't  run  away,  please, 
if  you  won't  be  bored  with  our  talk— oh,  I  forgot; 
Jack  's  always  been  in  your  black  books,  has  n't  he?" 

"I  've  no  use  for  him,  sir,  no  use,"  answered  the 
great  man,  putting  his  hands  together  behind  him  in 
a  characteristic  attitude  and  looking  obstinate. 

"  You  think  he  was  my  evil  genius  at  Oxford,  and 
all  that  ?  But  there  's  no  harm  in  Jack,  I  '11  swear ; 
and  a  more  delightful  fellow  never  drew  breath. 
Since  they  've  lost  all  their  money  it 's  been  hard  for 
him  to  keep  along,  and  he  's  had  to  try  different 
trades.  But  you  must  remember  my  poor  mother 
had  a  great  fancy  for  his  sister,  and  never  failed  to 
urge  on  me  to  try  to  win  Miss  Euphrosyne  for  a 
bride." 

"  Mis'  Adamson — your  mother,  I  mean — had  some 
notions  I  never  understood,"  said  that  lady's  relict. 
"  One  of  'em  was  wanting  to  hitch  our  wagon  on  to 
some  one  of  'old  colonial  stock.'  Who  cares  for 
colonial  stock,  anyhow?" 

"So  long  as  he  holds  your  number  of  shares  in 
Standard  Oil,"  replied  Rex,  laughing,  "  I  suppose,  no 
body.  But  do  stop  and  shake  hands  with  Jack,  sir, 
and  I  '11  take  him  off  to  my  own  den  up-stairs.  Capi 
tal  quarters,  those  you  've  got  for  me.  And  I  say, 
father,  would  n't  it  be  as  well  not  to  forget  to  inquire 


126  THE  CIKCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

for  Miss  Euphrosyne  ?  Hope  tells  me  she  's  studying 
to  be  a  trained  nurse.  You  know  my  mother  was 
really  fond  of  her." 

But  Job,  after  the  unwonted  expansion  of  his  retro 
spective  mood,  had  now  relapsed  into  his  gray,  shy, 
customary  self,  and  was  gliding  out  by  another  door 
as  the  butler  ushered  in  the  object  of  his  dislike. 

To  a  casual  observer  young  Warriner  was  certainly 
a  pleasing  semblance  of  a  man.  Women  admired  his 
tall,  erect  figure,  straight  features,  the  bloom  of  a  girl 
upon  his  olive  cheeks,  and  what  they  called  his  "  look 
of  race."  Men  satirized  Jack's  female  devotees,  but 
were  as  closely  drawn  to  him  by  a  certain  manly 
quality  in  his  make-up.  He  was  an  athlete  of  renown, 
a  good  sailor,  horseman,  golfer,  dancer,  and  everything 
requiring  active  skill  and  daring. 

Every  now  and  then,  in  his  checkered  career,  Jack 
would  go  under  and  disappear  from  the  sight  of  his 
friends ;  it  was  understood  that  the  demon  of  drink 
had  him  in  his  clutches ;  and  then  the  world's  trumpet 
cried  him  outside  the  pale.  But  again,  unexpectedly, 
he  would  turn  up,  handsome,  debonair,  with  clear 
eyes  and  rosy  cheeks,  and  people  asked  each  other 
how  could  such  things  as  they  had  heard  be  true ; 
and  Jack  would  step  into  his  old  place  with  a  beam 
ing  smile,  and  all  would  be  forgiven— -till  next  time. 

Rex,  who  had  met  him  first  at  Oxford,  felt  Jack's 
fascination  keenly,  and  had  surrendered  without  a 
protest.  He  had  since  befriended  him  in  a  thousand 
ways— had  taken  him  off  for  cruises  in  Job  Adam- 
son's  famous  yacht,  that  otherwise  would  have  re 
mained  out  of  commission ;  for  shooting  expeditions 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  127 

in  the  great  West,  crossing  the  continent  in  Job 
Adamson's  special  directors'  car;  and  would  have 
invited  him  to  be  his  guest  in  the  recent  circuit  of 
the  globe,  but  for  Job's  positive  refusal  to  give  the 
scheme  his  sanction. 

The  Warriners  were  old  New-Yorkers,  long  of  the 
steady,  solvent  variety.  For  years  they  had  lived  in 
an  ancestral  mansion  sorely  jostled  by  down-town 
trade,  and  kept  their  hold  upon  New  York  society. 
During  the  period  after  the"  war  between  the  States, 
when  shoddy  aristocracy  first  came  to  the  fore,  the 
Warriners  were  still  in  a  position  to  arch  their  eye 
brows  at  the  mention  of  any  prominent  new-comer 
whose  pedigree  had  yet  to  be  brought  out  of  chaos 
into  form  and  substance.  In  fact,  as  Job  Adamson 
had  once  been  heard  to  say,  they  were  "  little  tin 
gods  on  wheels." 

The  present  incumbents  of  the  family  honors  were 
the  widow  of  the  late  ruling  Warriner  who  had  died 
insolvent  years  back,  her  son  and  daughters  three. 
The  son  we  have  just  seen  enter  Mr.  Adamson's 
dining-room.  The  eldest  girl,  straightforward  and 
rather  "  intense,"  had  cut  loose  from  her  mama  and 
gone  to  study  the  fine  art  of  nursing  in  the  grand 
new  St.  Jude's  Hospital  on  the  Riverside  Drive.  The 
second  girl,  Emily,  was  a  handsome  devotee  of  fashion, 
which,  as  she  could  now  no  longer  enjoy  it  from  the 
top,  she  was  content  to  take  from  any  quarter  acces 
sible  below  the  apex  of  the  pile. 

Mrs.  Warriner,  herself  a  blue-blooded  personage 
with  a  high  nose  and  dissatisfied  expression,  had  been 
obliged  since  her  widowhood  to  struggle  hard  to 


128  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

keep  her  children  supplied  with  the  means  of  living. 
She  and  the  girls  had  moved  out  of  the  old  house, 
now  occupied  by  a  Society  of  Occult  Sciences  on  the 
ground  floor,  a  bookbindery,  a  tailor,  and  a  Swedish 
masseur  higher  up.  The  only  niche  known  to  belong 
to  this  once  dominant  family  in  the  city  of  their  birth 
was  a  flat  up-town,  pinched  as  to  entryways,  and  with 
barely  space  for  beds  in  its  chambers,  but  rejoicing  in 
an  elevator  and  in  servitors  with  buttony  attire. 

Miss  Bessie  Warriner,  youngest  of  the  three  dam 
sels,  and  not  so  confirmed  in  worldly  observance  as 
her  mother  would  have  liked,  was  a  pleasant  little 
body,  good  to  look  at,  but  not  pretty.  She  had  been 
christened  " Betsy"  after  some  long  gone  grand 
mother,  and  now  threatened  to  take  back  the  nomen 
clature  discarded  by  her  mother  in  her  infancy,  and 
adopt  the  profession  of  conducting  pet  dogs  out  to 
walk. 

"Betsy  Warriner,  spinster,  and  likely  so  to  remain,  will 
be  pleased  to  take  engagements  for  the  daily  exercise  of  ca 
nines  belonging  to  the  Four  Hundred. — N.  B.  Great  Danes 
preferred. 

"  How  would  that  look,  mummy,  in  the  daily  pa 
pers  ?  "  the  young  woman  had  inquired.  "  You  know 
it  is  really  quite  chic  to  earn  one's  money  nowadays. 
And  I  believe  that  vocation  would  develop  my  latent 
genius  as  nothing  else  could  do.  I  have  thought  over 
every  other  conceivable  branch  of  industry." 

"  Bessie,  you  are  impossible,"  said  the  wan  mother, 
who  had  been  lying  broad  awake  half  the  night  before, 
plotting  how  to  secure  for  her  daughters  new  dresses 
for  a  coming  ball,  as  well  as  to  provide  a  certain  sum 


IN  NEW  YOEK  OF  TO-DAY  129 

Jack  had  told  her  he  must  have  by  the  end  of  the 
month  or  be  "  irrevocably  squashed ! "  She  got  no 
credit  for  it  from  her  offspring,  no  sympathy  from 
her  friends,  who  thought  she  had  much  better  throw 
up  the  sponge  and  go  somewhere  to  live  in  the  prov 
inces,  or,  better  still,  in  respectable  vacuity  abroad. 

Mrs.  Warriner  did  not  want  to  go  abroad.  She 
loved  New  York,  she  believed  in  it,  clung  to  its  tradi 
tions,  tried  desperately  to  keep  her  place  and  her 
children's  in  its  esteem ;  but  year  by  year  the  tide  had 
swelled  more  strongly  against  her.  She  would  soon 
be  overborne  and  carried  out  to  sea.  How  was  it 
possible  for  her  little  frail  earthen  pots  to  go  on 
much  longer  in  company  with  those  made  of  iron  but 
overlaid  with  gold  ? 

She  saw  disaster  ahead,  and  shuddered,  but  deter 
mined  to  keep  on  while  she  might.  Perhaps  Emily 
would  marry ;  perhaps  Jack  would  reform,  and  win 
for  himself  an  heiress,  of  whom  there  was,  dear  knows, 
always  a  supply  cropping  up.  Jack,  her  beautiful, 
winning  Jack,  could,  in  her  opinion,  once  have  mar 
ried  whom  he  chose.  But  Jack  had  not  chosen.  He 
laughed  at  his  chances,  took  no  notice  of  women  whom 
Mrs.  Warriner  considered  had  actually  thrown  them 
selves  at  his  head.  She  had  a  horrible,  heart-sicken 
ing  fear  that  Jack  was  secretly  smitten  with  the  most 
detrimental  person  of  her  acquaintance — a  mere  child 
— a  chit  just  out  of  the  nursery— of  another  old 
family,  reduced  like  themselves,  just  about  to  make 
her  appearance  in  society ;  and,  worse  still,  she  feared 
the  chit  was  in  love  with  Jack. 

When,  earlier  that  winter,  Jack  had  formed  a  busi 
ness  alliance  with  an  artistic  photographer  (in  the 


130  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

exercise  of  the  one  paying  accomplishment  Mr.  War- 
riner  possessed),  and  had  been  sent  to  a  Western  city 
to  establish  a  branch  studio,  his  mother  had  heaved  a 
great  sigh  of  relief. 

But  alas !  Jack  had  soon  written  her  that  he  had 
had  a  blooming  row  with  the  Johnnie  who  considered 
himself  his  boss;  next,  that  the  rows  were  increas 
ing  ;  lastly,  that  he  'd  thrown  up  the  whole  business 
and  was  coming  home. 

And  now  he  had  come  home— Bessie  flying  into  his 
arms  with  every  expression  of  artless  rapture,  Emily 
looking  at  him  with  shut  lips  and  coldly  contemptuous 
eyes,  his  poor  mother  kissing  him  with  blank  despair 
in  her  heart.  For  the  seventy-and-seventh  time  it 
was  all  to  begin  again. 

Jack  assured  her,  when  they  were  alone,  that  he 
had  timed  his  return  to  welcome  home  the  best  friend 
he  ever  had— Rex  Adamson,  who  was  now  about  to 
settle  in  business  of  some  kind,  and  would  surely  put 
him  into  a  berth.  With  the  utmost  good  humor  he 
rallied  his  mother  upon  the  failure  of  her  previous 
projects  to  bring  about  a  match  between  Euphrosyne 
and  Job  Adamson's  heir;  told  her  that  while  there 
was  life  there  was  hope  in  that  respect ;  and  swore  by 
all  that  was  holy  that,  with  Rex's  help,  he  meant  to 
turn  over  an  entirely  new  leaf,  work  hard,  rake  in  the 
dollars,  and  make  the  Warriners  again  hold  their 
heads  up  with  the  best. 

When  he  left  her  to  go  to  call  on  Rex,  Mrs.  Warri- 
ner  sat  bolt  upright  with  a  new  apprehension.  Was 
Jack  doing  all  this  for  the  sake  of  that  little  pauper, 
Lucy  Hope? 


II 


ES;  Jack  Warriner  was  a  very  pleas 
ing  figure  of  a  man.  Adamson,  who 
jumped  up  to  meet  him  and  pump- 
handled  his  arm  with  enthusiastic 
welcome,  felt  his  blood  warm  at  sight 
of  him.  Jack  declining  even  a  sip  of  cognac  or  green 
mint,  but  accepting  a  cigar,  the  two  went  off  by 
means  of  Job  Adamson' s  private  lift  (which  he  never 
used)  to  the  airy  top  story  of  the  house,  wherein  Rex 
had  insisted  upon  having  his  own  quarters  fitted  up. 
So  long  had  Jack  been  accustomed  to  enjoy  the  best 
externals  of  life  through  others,  it  did  not  cost  him  a 
pang  to  praise  the  luxurious  and  perfectly  appointed 
bachelor's  suite  Rex  had  to  exhibit.  He  looked  over 
its  treasures  with  a  critic's  eye,  suggested  some 
changes,  discussed  others  with  his  friend,  and  finally 
dropped  into  an  arm-chair  before  the  fire,  savoring 
his  cigar  in  a  perfectly  contented  frame  of  mind. 

"  You  see,  I  've  had  some  of  these  superfluous  ser 
vants  of  my  father's  up  here  all  the  afternoon  un 
packing  the  chests  of  rubbish  I  picked  up  and  sent 
ahead  of  me.  That  accounts  for  the  litter  of  curios. 
No  doubt  I  '11  be  sick  of  lots  of  'em  and  chuck  'em  into 
the  rubbish-heap  before  long.  One  always  does.  But 
talk  of  not  buying  for  one's  self !  That 's  half  the  fun— 


132  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

getting  set  upon  by  those  picturesque  sharps  who  dive 
out  of  odd  corners  and  let  you  walk  over  their  stomachs, 
if  you  '11  only  buy.  I  've  trotted  about  so  much, 
and  seen  so  much,  one  would  think  I  'd  get  tired  of 
the  play-toys  of  travel ;  but,  thank  heaven,  I  'm  tired 
of  nothing  yet.  I  enjoy  life  more  every  day.  But 
I  'm  just  a  little  bit  scared  at  coming  back  home  to 
settle,  Jack.  I  'm  afraid  New  York  will  fail  to  hold 
me  in  its  machine.  And  I  can  see  by  my  father's 
eye  that  he  's  reached  the  last  limit  of  patience  with 
having  me  a  gentleman  of  leisure.  He  cabled  me  to 
come  over  and  '  learn  the  ropes.'  He 's  thinking  he 's 
getting  old,  and  I  must  learn  to  take  his  place.  Does 
he  believe,  I  wonder,  that  I  expect  to  go  down  to  that 
dingy  office  every  day  of  my  life,  and  stay  there  till 
nearly  dark,  piling  up  more  money — for  what  under 
the  heaven  above  us  ? " 

''Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  Jack,  as  if  his  pockets 
were  full  of  the  thing  so  despised.  "  Money  's  the 
steam  that  makes  the  engines  go.  And  one  can 
stand  having  a  good  lot  of  it." 

"  But  he  's  fabulously  rich.  I  don't  believe  he 
knows,  himself,  how  much  he  has  already.  Long 
ago  I  settled  with  him  to  give  me  a  stated  allowance 
—ample,  I  dare  say,  but  not  beyond  the  dreams  of 
avarice,  by  any  means.  If  I  ran  short  I  waited  till 
the  next  instalment  came  round.  I  've  always  been 
a  simple  fellow  in  my  tastes.  This  truck  I  've  piled 
up  here  and  my  books  represent  my  highest  personal 
expenditure.  And  I  get  the  credit  for  fairly  wallow 
ing  in  wealth !  " 

"  Good  Lord,  Adamson !     To  hear  you  talk !  "  ex- 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  133 

claimed  the  other,  irrepressibly.  "If  I  had  your 
chances  I  'd  know  how  to  use  'em.  Why,  with  the 
money  you  '11  inherit  you  '11  be  a  king — a  king  !  " 

"  My  father 's  a  sovereign  of  finance,  and  his  father 
was  before  him.  What  has  it  profited  either  of 
them?  I  suppose  by  multiplying  enjoyments  for 
other  people  one  may  keep  workmen  industrious; 
but  I  '11  give  you  my  word,  all  I  've  ever  seen  of  plu 
tocrat  society  here  makes  me  want  to  keep  out  of  it. 
I  got  more  joy  from  Oxford's  halls  and  gardens,  and 
the  Iffley,  than  I  ever  can  from  Fifth  Avenue  and 
Central  Park,  and  that  awful  grind  down-town.  One 
of  our  nice  old  dons  told  me  once  there  is  real  beauty, 
though  often  a  latent  one,  in  whatever  the  human 
mind  creates  upon  necessity.  I  hope  mine  will  cre 
ate  something  before  long." 

"Strange  how  I  brought  an  entirely  different  im 
pression  of  Oxford  to  America.  To  me  it  was  pleas 
ant,  but  merely  an  episode  into  which  I  did  n't  exactly 
fit.  I  always  thought  you  'd  be  the  kind  of  fellow 
who  'd  be  ruined  by  it  for  home,  and  now  I  know  it. 
Take  my  advice,  Rex,  and  be  a  rose-leaf  in  a  cup  of 
wine,  like  men.  It 's  easier  than  doing  the  Omar 
Khayyam  act  and  investigating  the  meanings  of 
things.  I  dare  say  in  time  you  '11  settle  down  into  a 
model  young  millionaire,  and  feel  exceedingly  re 
signed.  If  you  want  to  study  the  law  of  contrasts, 
however,  begin  first  here,  now.  As  usual,  I  'm  cleaned 
out  and  at  the  bottom  of  the  ladder,  wondering  how  in 
the  deuce  I  'm  going  to  get  up.  By  this  time  I  'm  will 
ing  to  take  advantage  of  your  various  offers  to  set 
me  squarely  upon  my  feet.  Strange,  fabulous,  apoc- 


134  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

ryphal  as  it  may  seem,  I  want  to  begin  work  in  ear 
nest—work  that  will  bring  cash  quickly,  work  that 
will  help  me  to  keep  straight,  as  I  Ve  done  for  six 
months  past,  and  look  forward  to  better  things." 

"  Jack,  my  dear  boy,  I  'm  awfully  glad  to  hear  it !  " 
exclaimed  Rex,  heartily. 

He  did  not  know  exactly  how  to  go  on,  and  Jack, 
with  an  angelic  smile,  saved  him  the  trouble  of 
trying. 

"  I  knew  there  would  be  joy  in  heaven,  and  all  that 
kind  of  thing,  you  know.  Yes,  I  'm  in  earnest  now, 
if  I  never  was  before.  I  Ve  thrown  over  that  beastly 
photographing  because  it  was  n't  fit  for  me,  and  I  Ve 
got  an  opening  elsewhere— that  is,  if  somebody  (not 
to  say  the  fellow  who  's  been  ramming  at  me  to  go 
and  do  it,  off  and  on,  for  some  years  past)  will  step 
forward  and  give  me  a  start.  And  I  '11  swear  I  '11  do 
him  credit.  I  Ve  been  trying  to  wring  help  out  of 
the  home  people,  but  they  're  squeezed  dry." 

"You  should  have  first  come  to  me,"  said  Rex, 
simply. 

Experience  with  Warriner  had  taught  him  many 
things,  but  never  that  Jack  would  close  down  on  him 
for  money  in  cold  blood.  Had  this  been  the  case, 
their  friendship  had  not  hung  together  so  long. 

So  they  talked  details,  and  Rex  satisfied  himself 
that  the  rolling  stone  was  at  last  really  in  a  way  to 
come  to  a  halt,  where  it  would  determine  for  itself 
whether  or  not  it  would  remain  stationary.  He  felt  a 
new  sense  of  the  satisfaction  that  lies  in  power  when 
he  planned  to  help  his  friend  with  both  money  and 
influence— and,  in  fancy,  widened  out  Jack's  plan  to 


IN  NEW  YOEK  OF  TO-DAY  135 

include  a  push  from  Job  Adamson  that  would  hasten 
matters  with  a  bound. 

When  they  had  reached  this  point  Rex  surprised 
on  his  companion's  face  a  very  startling  apparition— 
almost  as  startling  as  the  tearful  expression  worn  by 
his  father  when  his  ship  touched  the  pier :  Jack  looked 
genuinely  humble  and  ashamed. 

"  I  'm  not  fit  for  the  company  I  keep— that 's  clear," 
said  Mr.  Warriner,  getting  up  to  pace  the  room,  then 
stopping  before  the  fireplace  and  tossing  back  his 
head.  "  Since  I  'm  in  the  melting  mood  to-night,  old 
chap,  and  you  Ve  shown  the  patience  of  a  saint  and 
the  friendship  of — oh,  well,  I  can't  express  it,  and  I 
won't  try— I  '11  tell  you  the  truth  why  I  want  to 
straighten  out  and  do  my  best  and  be  a  man  again. 
I  Ve  fallen  in  love." 

11 1  've  been  waiting  to  hear  that  come  out,"  said 
Rex,  surveying  him  curiously.  "  Cherchez  la  femme 
occurred  to  me  some  time  ago." 

"  I  have  known  her  always— or,  at  least,  that  she  was 
there.  Until  last  year,  when  she  suddenly  blossomed 
out  into  a  beauty,  she  was  a  lankish  young  female 
with  a  club  of  hair  tied  up  with  a  ribbon,  a  good  deal 
of  black  stocking,  and  an  inordinate  taste  for  tom 
boy  doings.  Our  families  are  connected— or  were,  in 
the  dark  ages  of  old  New  York.  I  believe  one  of 
them  had  our  ancestral  property  and  then  we  got  it 
back— much  good  it  does  us  now,  when  there  is  n't 
a  beggarly  store  or  warehouse  left  us  in  city  real 
estate,  and  only  some  barren  acres  of  a  run-to-seed 
'  manor '  up  the  Hudson  that  nobody  will  buy.  My 
mater  could  tell  you  all  about  it,  if  she  would,  but  just 


136  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

now  she  's  on  her  dignity  with  the  Hopes,  because 
she  suspects  me  of  spooning  in  that  direction." 

"What!  Laurence  Hope's  people— the  fellow  I 
crossed  with  ? " 

"Just  so.  Of  course  you  like  Laurie;  everybody 
does.  I  do,  in  spite  of  his  having  been  always  held 
up  to  me  as  a  model.  He  's  what  virtuous  business 
men  call  nervy,  and  wide-awake,  and  sure  to  get 
ahead.  The  family  needs  him,  since  the  Hopes  have 
not  been  of  much  consequence  in  the  public  eye  for 
many  a  long  year.  They  don't  get  brief  biographies, 
and  startling  portraits  with  puffs  attached— in  the 
Sunday  papers,  I  mean.  Like  us  poor,  played-out 
Warriners,  they  've  dropped  behind  in  this  tremendous 
foot-race  of  New  York.  The  father  's  a  mild,  cour 
teous,  Historical-Society  and  Sons-of-the-Cincinnati 
kind  of  old  fellow,  perfectly  satisfied  with  things  as 
they  go,  and  with  having  enough  to  live  on  in  the  house 
where  he  was  born.  But  Mrs.  Hope 's  like  my  mother 
and  sisters  and  most  women  nowadays— bitten  with 
ambition  to  get  to  the  front.  She  was  a  Philadelphia 
woman,  with  ancestors  of  Revolutionary  date,  and,  I 
presume,  a  pedigree  stretching  back  to  prehistoric 
days  in  England.  They  tell  me  she  's  banking  largely 
upon  Lucy  to  —  did  I  tell  you  her  name  is  Lucy  ?  " 

"No;  you  omitted  that  particular.  Sweet  little 
Wordsworthian  praenom,  that.  Is  she  '  a  violet  by  a 
mossy  stone,  half  hidden  from  the  eye '  ? " 

"  She  's  fresh  enough  and  sweet  enough  for  any 
thing,  but  her  mother  does  n't  mean  her  to  be  hidden 
long.  She  was  to  have  made  her  formal  appearance 
in  society  in  December— did  I  tell  you  she  's  just 
nineteen  ? " 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  137 

"  I  '11  make  a  note  of  that,  too,"  answered  Rex, 
smiling.  It  was  something  new  to  see  Jack  Warri- 
ner  hard  hit. 

"  Well,  somebody  upped  and  died  in  their  connec 
tion  recently,  and  the  debut  was  put  off— worse  luck 
—till  now.  Mrs.  Hope  is  going  to  give  a  '  tea  '  for  her. 
Do  you  know  what  a  New  York  old  family  tea  is, 
Adarnson?  If  not,  don't  inquire!— that  is,  make  an 
exception  in  the  case  of  this  particular  function, 
which  occurs  to-morrow  afternoon.  Another  tax 
upon  your  friendship.  I  want  you  to  go  there  with 
me  as  my  friend— my  particular  importation  and 
contribution  to  society.  I  suppose  you  never  think, 
Bex, — such  a  dear  old  indifferent  fellow  as  you  are, — 
what  a  flutter  in  the  dove-cote  your  coming  home  to 
live  has  made  here.  You  are  actually  the  hero  of  the 
hour.  If  I  were  n't  afraid  you  'd  kick  me  down-stairs, 
I  'd  tell  you  about  a  paragraph  announcing  your  re 
turn  that  came  out  in  this  evening's  papers." 

"  Great  Scott,  Warriner,  you  make  me  sick,"  said 
Rex,  turning  red  and  shuddering. 

"  It 's  true,  old  man ;  and  you  can't  get  out  of  it. 
You  and  this  house  are  lauded  together  to  the 
skies,  and  by  to-morrow  all  the  match-makers  will  be 
sharp-set  in  pursuit  of  you.  If  I  take  you  to  the 
Hopes'  I  '11  be  welcome  as  flowers  in  spring.  Every 
face  will  beam  on  me — not  that  I  care  about  any 
body's  beaming  excepting  Lucy's  dear  mama.  It  will 
put  the  dragon  in  a  good  humor  with  me  for  the  rest 
of  the  season.  She  will  give  me  the  freedom  of  the 
house.  And  it  '11  cost  you  nothing  but  an  hour  of 
boredom  in  your  frock-coat." 


138  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

"  If  it  could  have  been  deferred,"  went  on  Rex,  as 
genuinely  uncomfortable  as  a  large-sized,  fair-skinned, 
anti-society  man  can  be.  "  To  plunge  headlong  into 
vapidity—" 

"Come,  brace  up  and  take  it  like  a  good  fellow. 
I  need  your  prestige  to  launch  me ;  and  some  day,  if 
Lucy  and  I  ever  see  our  way  out  of  the  snarl  of  cir 
cumstances—by  George,  Eex,  I  can  joke  about  almost 
anything,  I  think,  but  I  '11  stop  right  here  !  I  'm  mad 
about  that  girl.  To  get  her,  I  'd  do  anything  but  lie 
or  steal.  And  I  '11  own  one  thing  to  you,  because 
you  are  giving  me  this  chance.  We  are  engaged, 
though  the  Lord  only  knows  what  '11  become  of  it. 

"  She  does  n't  dare  tell  her  parents,  naturally— nor 
I  my  people.  My  poor  madre  has  long  ago  given  up 
expecting  me  to  realize  her  ambitions.  I  'm  a  gone 
coon,  she  thinks.  But  the  Hopes,  or  Mrs.  H.,  depend 
on  Lucy  to  conquer  the  world  for  them.  She  is 
pretty  beyond  words,  merry,  light-hearted,  daring, 
and  true  as  steel.  Having  pledged  herself  to  me, 
she  'd  go  through  fire  and  water  for  me.  Sometimes 
my  heart  misgives  me,  and  I  fear  that  I  was  a  cur  to 
let  her  pledge  herself  when  she  knew  actually  nothing 
of  the  world. 

"  I  've  feared  it  was  all  an  impulse  —  a  girl's  fancy 
that  she  could  reform  me.  Well,  so  far  she  has  re 
formed  me.  Since  she  promised  herself  to  me  last  sum 
mer — at  a  country-house  party  where  we  met — I  've 
never  touched  a  drop.  I  worked  this  winter  till  I 
heard  of  this  opening  I  told  you  of.  And  then  I 
threw  the  job  overboard,  resisting  a  strong  impulse 
to  punch  my  employer's  addled  head,  and  came  home 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  139 

to  meet  you.  Not  a  living  soul  knows  about  Lucy 
and  me,  Rex,  but  you.  The  truth  is,  I  'm  pretty 
shaky,  and  I  need  you  to  help  me  to  stand  firm." 

"  I  '11  help,  Jack,"  said  Rex,  soberly.  He  was  think 
ing  what  an  immense  responsibility  Jack  had  thrust 
on  him.  His  sympathy  went  out  to  the  headlong, 
loving,  impulsive  child  who  had  taken  up  her  part  of 
the  burden  without  the  faintest  knowledge  of  what 
Jack  was,  and  had  been.  It  seemed  to  Rex  that  what 
he  was  asked  to  do  was  not  exactly  nice.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  he  could  not  withhold  a  hand  to  pull  a 
sinking  comrade  out  of  a  quicksand. 

All  Jack's  bravado,  slang,  and  indifference  had  fled. 
He  stood  up,  facing  Rex  like  a  school-boy  who  has 
forgotten  his  piece.  If  ever  in  his  misspent  life  he 
had  been  in  earnest,  it  was  now.  He  was  mortally  in 
need  of  Rex. 

And  amid  the  lines  traced  by  a  thousand  reckless 
and  unworthy  acts  upon  Jack  Warriner's  face,  there 
remained  the  unquestionable  indication  that  he  had 
been  bo-rn  a  gentleman,  and  that  he  spoke  the  truth. 

His  smile  when  Rex,  without  a  word,  stretched  out 
his  hand  to  him,  was,  despite  his  seven-and-twenty 
years,  a  boy's ;  and  under  its  influence  Rex  ceased  to 
wonder  at  the  self-devotion  of  Miss  Lucy  Hope  to  the 
cause  of  Jack's  reform. 

WHEN,  together,  the  two  young  men  pushed 
through  the  crowd  at  Mrs.  Hope's,  next  afternoon, 
Rex  Adam  son,  during  a  halt  enforced  by  those  press 
ing  ahead  of  them  to  greet  the  hostess,  chanced  to 
cast  his  eyes  upon  an  old  portrait  on  the  wall  oppo- 


140  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

site.  Instantly  his  attention  was  riveted  by  it  with 
almost  painful  intensity. 

In  mysterious  fashion  not  to  be  explained,  he  felt 
that  this  face  had  previously  held,  would  hold,  over 
him  some  influence  of  power.  How  strange  and  fan 
tastic  that  he  should  be  possessed  with  the  idea  those 
features  were  to  be  intimately  connected  with  his 
fate,  or  had  in  some  earlier  stage  of  existence  written 
an  inscription  upon  his  mind ! 

He  could  not  cease  from  looking  at  the  portrait. 
It  was  that  of  a  young  woman  in  the  radiancy  of 
beauty  and  happiness,  dressed  in  the  square-cut  gown, 
long  waist,  and  topknots  of  a  hundred  years  before. 
The  artist  who  had  limned  her  was  of  the  best  of  his 
generation,  clearly.  The  flesh-tints  bloomed  as  in 
life,  the  eyes  sought  his  mischievously,  the  rosy  mouth 
was  curved  in  an  undying  smile. 

"  G-ood  heavens,  what  a  beauty !  "  he  said,  to  cover 
his  confusion  when  he  found  Jack  eying  him  side- 
wise  with  an  odd  expression,  half  mockery,  half  pride. 
"  I  never  saw  anything  so  vivid.  One  would  swear 
it  is  real  flesh  and  blood  peeping  through  a  hole  in 
the  canvas— like  Peg  Woffington  in  Triplet's  studio." 

"  Rex,  are  you  an  arch-diplomatist  ?  But  I  forget 
—how  could  you  know  ?  Prepare  for  a  surprise  when 
I  name  you  to  Mrs.  and  Miss  Hope." 

Verily  a  surprise !  "  Miss  Hope  "  was  the  lady  of 
the  canvas,  stepped  out  of  her  frame  !  Rex  had  caught 
but  a  passing  glimpse  of  the  fine-grained,  faded  mother, 
who  had  given  him  a  little  hand  covered  with  costly 
old  rings,  with  a  greeting  of  the  most  gracious.  His 
gaze  was  all  for  Lucy. 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  141 

He  was  unaware  that  the  people  round  them  had 
•widened  to  a  circle  that  gazed  at  him  with  whispered 
comments.  He  dimly  heard  Mrs.  Hope's  velvety  voice 
asking  him  to  come  to  them  in  the  future,  when  there 
would  be  more  chance  to  make  his  acquaintance.  His 
attention  was  rapt  by  the  girl  wearing  a  high  white 
gown  and  carrying  a  large  bunch  of  white  lilacs,  who 
had  met  him  with  such  a  kind  and  fearless  look  out 
of  her  soft  eyes. 

His  was  the  experience  of  a  lifetime,  that  comes  to 
some  lucky  men.  Without  the  possibility  of  a  doubt 
in  his  mind,  he  knew  that  he  had  met  his  ideal  woman 
—the  dream-maiden  whose  spell,  for  weal  or  woe,  is 
cast  the  moment  one  encounters  her. 

And  she  was  Jack  Warriner's  betrothed,  to  screen 
whose  affair  with  his  friend  he  had  come  here,  all  un 
suspecting. 

Rex  Adamson's  slow  pulses  quickened  to  a  sudden 
maddening  gallop,  and  a  mist  passed  over  his  brain. 
To  hide  it  he  looked  over  again  at  the  portrait,  and  said 
some  commonplace  words  regarding  his  mistake  in 
believing  it  to  be  an  antique. 

"But  it  is  an  antique — not  my  portrait,  but  that 
of  my  great-grandmama,"  she  said,  blushing.  "  Peo 
ple  who  are  in  the  habit  of  coming  here  are  so  ac 
customed  to  the  resemblance  they  've  stopped  notic 
ing  it.  The  '  Lady  of  the  Duel/  we  've  always  called 
her;  and  I  bear  her  name — Lucilla  Chester  Hope.  I 
think  Lucilla  sounds  foolish  in  these  days,  and  I  made 
the  girls  at  school  call  me  Lucy.  My  brother  Laurie 
said  you,  too,  are  in  revolt  over  your  Christian  name, 
Mr.  Adamson.  I  think  we  ought  all  to  be  numbered 


142  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

or  lettered  in  our  babyhood,  and  left  to  choose  for 
ourselves  when  we  arrive  at  an  age  to  think.  Laurie 
came  out  better  in  the  deal  than  I." 

"  I  must  seem  to  you  a  blathering  idiot,"  said  Rex, 
who  had  recovered  his  usual  unperturbed  exterior. 
"  But  I  '11  swear  I  feel  as  if  I  had  known  you,  or 
the  '  Lady  of  the  Duel/  somewhere.  The  conviction 
strikes  me  with  extraordinary  force." 

"  It  may  be  a  case  of  reincarnation,"  said  the  girl. 
"  And  in  the  old  days  you  may  have  been  her  friend. 
I  hope  so,  I  am  sure." 

"  Hardly  likely,  since  my  people  had  not  then  ap 
peared  on  the  surface  of  social  life." 

"  Don't  say  so.  I  mean  to  believe  we  were  all  on 
the  best  of  terms.  Though  it  will  make  Mr.  War- 
riner  feel  uncomfortable,  since  his  ancestor  and  mine 
were  not,"  she  added,  with  a  half -nervous  attempt  for 
the  first  time  to  introduce  Jack  into  the  conversation. 

"You  know,  Rex,  or  you  don't  know,"  said  Jack, 
"  that  tradition  makes  my  forebear  the  one  who  fought 
for  that  fair  Lucilla  on  the  wall,  and  unfortunately 
lost  her.  But  I  don't  care  for  those  old  Johnnies, 
anyhow— and  in  this  generation,"  he  added  in  a  tone 
that  reached  Lucy's  ear  alone,  "the  Warriners  will 
sing  a  different  tune." 

She  did  not  answer  him,  but  resumed  her  bantering 
chat  with  his  friend. 

"  By  the  way,  Mr.  Adamson,  Laurie  has  done  no 
thing  since  he  landed  yesterday  but  extol  your  merits 
as  traveling  companion.  We  had  already  asked  him 
to  bring  you  to  see  us,  but  of  course  he  would  n't  have 
done  so.  Brothers  always  think  it  does  n't  pay  their 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  143 

friends  to  call  on  their  own  womenkind.  Bad  boy ! 
He  said  he  'd  be  kept  down-town  this  afternoon  on 
business  for  the  firm.  But  dear !  we  saw  through 
him  in  a  moment.  He  would  n't  be  caught  at  a  tea 
at  home,  though  I  will  say  he  sent  me  a  stunning 
bouquet  of  orchids,  which  I  call  noble  on  the  part  of 
my  impoverished  Laurie." 

While  speaking  these  careless  words  she  lifted  to 
her  face,  as  if  merely  to  inhale  their  fragrance,  the 
white  lilacs,  evidently  selected  to  be  carried  from 
among  the  many  tokens  of  the  kind  heaped  around 
her  on  mantelpiece,  grand  piano,  and  cabinets.  Adam- 
son  could  not  help  seeing  that,  with  the  daintiest  of 
touches,  like  a  butterfly  on  and  off,  she  at  the  same 
time  brushed  them  with  her  lips.  He  was  amazed  at 
the  frankness  of  character,  the  abandonment  to  loyal 
feeling,  this  action  betokened ;  for  at  once,  by  the 
dark-red  flush  arising  in  Jack  Warriner's  face,  Rex 
knew  that  it  had  been  appropriated  by  her  lover  as 
the  answer  she  had  withheld  in  words. 

And  then  Mrs.  Hope,  who  thought  she  had  allowed 
Mr.  Adamson  to  absorb  her  daughter  as  long  as  un 
written  law  permits  on  such  an  occasion,  interposed 
with  a  fresh  batch  of  presentations  to  the  debutante. 
The  young  men  had  no  recourse  but  to  drift  away  into 
the  crowd,  each  trying  to  throw  off  an  emotion  he 
did  not  wish  the  other  to  fathom. 

Jack,  rallying  first,  introduced  his  friend  to  a  Mrs. 
Arrowtip,  a  nimble-witted  widow  of  a  certain  age,  who 
retained  amid  her  trenchant  views  of  contemporane 
ous  society  good  nature  enough  to  keep  her  secure  of 
acceptance  in  the  fashionable  circles  she  contemned. 


144  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

As  soon  as  they  were  left  together  she  launched  into 
a  stream  of  lively  talk. 

"  Jack  knew — the  Warriners  are  my  cousins,  you 
must  understand— it  is  a  nest  of  cousins  here  this 
afternoon— that,  like  everybody  else,  I  was  simply 
dying  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Adamson.  We  have  been  so 
jealous  of  your  never  staying  in  America  long  enough 
to  make  acquaintances.  But  it  was  clever  of  you. 
There  is  nothing  like  it  as  a  whet  to  a  jaded  appetite. 
New  York  likes  a  man  who  can  afford  to  turn  his 
back  on  it — my  New  York,  I  mean,  not  the  New  York 
of  philosophers  and  political  economists.  You  see, 
you  are  not  only  an  interesting  personality,  but  a 
social  problem.  Your  father's  son  and  your  grand 
father's  grandson  belongs  to  us.  We  expect  to  be 
led  by  you  some  day  soon,  and  are  prepared  to  jump 
after  you  over  any  fence  you  elect  to  take." 

"  Great  heavens !  what  have  I  done  ? "  asked  Adam- 
son. 

"It  was  done  for  you  by  your  predecessors,  who 
amassed  a  fortune  that  represents  the  highest  Amer 
ican  ideal  of  romance  and  distinction.  Every  people 
must  have  a  sovereign  of  the  imagination,  and  ours 
is  enormous  wealth.  To  dwell  upon  you  and  your 
doings  will  furnish  amusement  and  recreation  to  hun 
dreds  of  thousands  of  people  who  lead  commonplace 
lives  all  over  our  country.  As  to  the  newspapers — " 

"  They  will  curse  me  from  my  eye-glass  to  my 
trousers,  as  Kipling  would  say." 

"  Or  praise  you  till  you  crave  a  curse.  You  will  be 
'copy'  for  many  a  day  to  come,  Mr.  Adamson." 

"Can  you  wonder,  then,  that  I  Ve  made  myself 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  145 

scarce  this  long,  when  all  I  ask  is  to  be,  like  my  father 
before  me,  the  most  unassuming  of  private  citizens?" 

"  But  you  can't,  you  see  !  You  are  of  that  magic 
'  third  generation'  from  which  all  things  are  expected 
here.  You  are  young,  highly  educated,  have  been 
everywhere,  seen  everything.  You  can't  expect  to  slip 
into  your  father's  groove.  Why,  the  woman  you  '11 
choose  for  a  wife  will  rise  into  a  subject  of  national 
importance." 

"  The  nation  will  have  to  look  elsewhere  for  excite 
ments,  then.  Really,  you  rob  life  of  the  few  aspects 
in  which  it  attracts  me.  The  only  comfort  I  have  is 
that  wise  men  have  said  the  grandfather  makes  a 
fortune,  the  father  enjoys  it,  and  the  grandchildren 
scatter  it  to  the  winds.  Unfortunately,  I  am  a  man 
of  simple  tastes  and  modest  ambitions.  It 's  too  bad, 
Mrs.  Arrowtip,  that  I  am  destined  to  be  such  a  disap 
pointment  to  your  community ;  but  I  can't  unmake 
myself." 

"Please  don't,"  she  said,  casting  an  approving 
glance  upon  his  muscular  form  and  fine,  straightfor 
ward  face.  "  But  dear  me  !  here  am  I  keeping  you 
from  all  the  other  women  who  may  want  to  know  you." 

"  Nobody  can  be  suffering  from  that  complaint,"  he 
said,  laughing.  "  Don't  leave  me  yet,  I  beg.  If  you 
knew  what  a  greenhorn  I  feel  in  a  smart  New  York 
house ! " 

"Oh!  but  this  is  n't  smart.  The  Hopes,  too,  are 
my  cousins,  so  I  can  be  frank  and  tell  the  truth.  If 
you  marry  to-morrow  and  throw  open  that  perfectly 
beautiful  house  of  yours— which  is  already  a  pride  to 

the  avenue— your  gathering  will  be  distinctly  smart. 
10 


146  THE  CIRCLE  OP  A  CENTUEY 

This  is  a  mixture  of  old  and  new,  the  gently  decadent 
mingled  with  the  conspicuously  'arrived.'  I  swing 
like  a  pendulum  betwixt  the  two  sets,  looking  on  with 
an  impersonal  feeling  at  the  passing  show,  and  enjoy 
ing  all  that  comes  to  me  from  either  side.  But  my 
cousin,  Mrs.  Hope,  has  decided  that  she  is  aweary  of 
the  old,  and  means  to  go  over,  neck  and  crop,  among 
the  new.  She  wants  to  be  taken  out  of  humdrum. 
Her  husband— bless  his  unworldly  soul!— will  never 
help -her.  Her  boy  is  just  as  bad,  and  all  depends, 
therefore,  upon  dear  little  Lucy,  the  most  natural, 
artless,  and  unspoiled  girl  I  know.  Our  debutante, 
for  all  she  looks  so  childish,  has  studied,  weighed, 
measured,  and  thought  over  many  things.  Then, 
she  and  her  mother  do  not  sympathize,  and  that 
drives  her  into  taking  up  odd  notions  and  at 
tempting  impossibilities.  Look  at  her  now,  talking 
with  Jack  Warriner,  who  can't  keep  away  from  her 
any  more  than  he  can  keep  his  feelings  out  of  his 
face.  It  would  be  just  like  Lucy  to  take  that  cross 
upon  her  shoulders,  and  it  would  result  in  certain 
disaster.  Bless  me,  I  'm  fairly  maundering !  Let  me 
introduce  you  to  Miss  Lancaster— Miss  Kate  Lancas 
ter—Mr.  Adamson  " ;  and  she  turned  abruptly  to  two 
sister  stars  of  fashion  who  were  patiently  stationed  at 
her  elbow. 

"  I  have  been  coaching  Mr.  Adamson  a  little,  girls, 
and  now  I  must  run  away  and  leave  him  to  you,  for 
I  ;ve  an  early  dinner  on.  You  '11  drop  in  some  Satur 
day  after  five  and  let  me  resume  my  monologue,  won't 
you,  Mr.  Adamson  ?  It  's  the  only  way  to  prove  to 
me  that  you  have  not  been  bored  to  death." 


IN  NEW  YORE  OF  TO-DAY  147 

When  Mrs.  Arrowtip  had  taken  her  plain,  charm 
ing  face  and  striking  figure  away  there  was  nothing 
left  Adamson  but  to  abandon  himself  to  the  current. 
In  a  short  time  he  was  surrounded,  invited,  flattered, 
reminded  of  "  Tuesdays"  and  "Thursdays,"  and  "al 
most  any  day,  late,"  by  at  least  half  a  hundred  people 
whom  he  had  never  laid  eyes  on  till  that  afternoon. 

"  I  say,  Rex,  I  'm  eternally  obliged  to  you,"  began 
Jack,  as  the  two  men  at  last  pulled  out  of  it  and 
started  to  walk  up  the  ice-bound  avenue  in  long, 
swinging  strides.  "  Do  you  know,  I  'm  restored  to 
grace,  and  all  through  your  agency?  Mrs.  Hope 
beckoned  me  back  just  now  to  ask  if  you  and  I  will 
dine  there  with  a  'very  few  friends'  on  Tuesday! 
Since  when  have  I  partaken  of  bread  and  salt  under 
that  roof -tree?  I  was  to  engage  you  by  word  of 
mouth,  as  the  notice  is  so  short,  and  to  let  her  know." 

"Oh,  I  don't  think  so,  Jack,"  replied  his  friend, 
shortly,  then  paused  at  the  blank  expression  of  Jack's 
face.  "But,  if  you  think  it  will  be  any  good,  I  '11 
show  up,  of  course." 

"  It  's  so  hard  for  me  to  meet  her,  old  fellow.  Of 
course  you  can't  understand  my  feelings,  but  it  's 
getting  to  be  life  and  death  to  me  to  have  these  little 
glimpses  of  her.  She  can't  understand,  either.  How 
should  she— a  girl  like  that!  When  I  asked  her  in  a 
whisper  just  now  to  meet  me  to-morrow  in  the  street 
somewhere  and  take  a  walk — ever  so  short  a  one — 
she  told  me  she  would  not  do  it — ever." 

"  Right  she  is,"  said  Rex,  feeling  much  embarrassed. 
He  could  not  explain  even  to  himself  his  feeling  of 
rejoicing  at  the  moral  courage  of  the  girl  whom  his 


148  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

friend  expected  to  make  his  wife— a  girl  who  a 
couple  of  hours  ago  was  nothing  to  him,  and  had  sud 
denly  become  of  such  vast  importance  that  in  ima 
gination  he  had  constituted  himself  her  knight  and 
cavalier,  to  guard  her  from  all  evil  and  semblance  of 
wrong-doing—to  exalt  her  in  other  men's  eyes,  and 
keep  her  purity  a  thing  enskied.  Certainly  he  had 
no  right  to  interfere— to  preach  to  a  man  who  had 
been  so  lucky  as  to  win  her  love ;  but,  knowing  Jack 
as  he  did,  the  idea  of  connecting  those  two  lives 
seemed  abhorrent. 

To  relieve  himself,  he  dropped  into  one  of  his  silent 
fits,  which  Jack  knew  by  experience  were  no  more  to 
be  penetrated  than  a  mountainous  iceberg  by  a  wave. 
They  kept  along  together  through  an  atmosphere 
clear  as  a  bell,  amid  the  hurrying  figures  of  the  great 
community  at  the  end  of  a  long  day's  work.  Up 
above  the  housetop  a  new  moon  showed  in  an  opaline 
sky.  Far  as  the  eye  could  reach  ahead  there  was  a 
seemingly  solid  mass  of  pedestrians,  focusing  on  the 
sidewalks  of  the  wide  thoroughfare  the  life  of  the 
people  among  whom  his  lot  was  cast. 

Their  varied  types  and  nationalities  appeared  to 
bring  him  in  touch  with  those  far  places  of  earth 
whence  he  had  come  reluctantly  away.  Mrs.  Arrow- 
tip's  shafts  concerning  his  position  and  responsibili 
ties  recurred  to  him.  If  what  she  had  said  were  true, 
he  had  too  great  a  part  to  play  in  this  world  in  min 
iature  of  latter-day  New  York  to  let  himself  be  thus 
possessed  by  the  double  influence  of  a  picture  and  a  girl. 

Before  they  reached  the  club  where  Jack  turned  in 
and  left  him,  he  had  given  the  promise  Jack  desired. 


Ill 


HE  days  following  his  first  meeting 
with  Lucy  Hope  found  Adamson  des 
perately  anxious  lest  something  should 
intervene  to  prevent  the  dinner  at  her 
home  to  which  he  had  been  bidden. 
Remembering  his  first  scoff  at  the  invitation,  he 
fairly  trembled  for  fear  fate  would  get  even  with 
him  by  putting  it  out  of  his  power  to  go. 

He  did  not  yet  quite  realize  that  the  door  had 
opened  for  him  into  a  new  kingdom  of  delights  and 
woes,  that  he  was  in  the  grip  of  the  most  resistless 
force  of  earth's  experience.  But  he  found  himself 
dwelling  on  the  girl's  image,  and  was  ever  and  anon 
thrilled  by  the  sensation  that  had  come  to  him— 
whether  from  her  or  from  the  old  portrait  he  could 
not  tell  —  that  her  face  was  linked  to  his  destiny  and 
was  to  become  an  essential  part  of  his  future. 

When  Jack  Warriner,  blooming  with  cheerfulness 
and  health,  arrived  to  go  with  Rex  to  the  dinner,  he 
was  surprised  to  see  on  his  friend's  ordinarily  self- 
contained  countenance  indications  of  an  intensity  of 
eagerness  which  he  did  not  understand  and  was  wise 
enough  not  to  inquire  into.  Rex  sprang  into  the 
brougham  that  awaited  them  with  the  light  step  of  a 
school-boy.  It  was  a  long  drive  down-town  to  their 

149 


150  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

destination,  and  more  than  once  Rex  leaned  his  head 
out  of  the  carriage  window  and  chided  the  coachman 
for  not  taking  streets  less  encumbered  with  the 
debris  of  the  late  snowfall. 

Jack  laughed  at  his  companion's  impatience.  For 
himself,  seeing  that  he  had  been  that  morning  in 
stalled  in  the  new  venture  in  business  which  was  to 
carry  him  to  a  respectable  place  in  the  community, 
an  income  sufficient  for  his  wants,  and,  by  a  short  cut, 
to  the  moment  when  he  could  openly  claim  Lucy  as 
his  affianced,  the  world  seemed  to  be  jogging  com 
fortably  enough.  Even  Rex,  knowing  Jack  as  he  did, 
marveled  at  his  airy  indifference  to  the  dark  places 
of  his  past  career,  his  sublime  assurance  that  the  gifts 
of  fortune's  cornucopia  now  being  showered  upon  his 
head  were  merited,  or  at  least  nothing  more  than  he 
might  reasonably  have  expected. 

They  were  first  to  arrive  in  the  broad,  old  fashioned 
drawing-room,  with  the  curtains  of  deep-red  plush 
drawn  together  over  its  windows,  book-shelves  in  the 
recesses  on  either  side  of  a  fire  of  large  lumps  of  coal, 
vases  of  fresh  flowers,  and  rather  worn  furniture  in 
tint  and  texture  like  the  curtains.  The  warmth  and 
sparkle  of  this  homelike  interior  seemed  to  Rex  far 
more  attractive  than  the  bald  upholstery  and  group 
ings  of  artistic  furniture  in  his  own  home ;  for  from 
the  heart  of  its  crimson  glow  rose  to  meet  him  a  girl 
tall  and  fair  as  an  arum,  clad  in  white  satin  closely 
fitted  to  her  perfect  shape,  her  neck  and  arms  bare, 
her  face  smiling,  her  eyes  all  unconscious  that  they 
"  carried  love." 

The  two  men  had  but  a  word  with  her  before  others, 


IN  NEW  YOKE  OF  TO-DAY  151 

entering  on  their  heels,  claimed  her  notice.  Rex,  who 
knew  not  the  art  of  looking  happy  when  ennuied, 
stood  around  in  a  large,  lumbering,  and  disconsolate 
way,  waiting  the  summons  to  dinner,  and  admiring 
Jack  Warriner's  facility  for  appearing  at  his  best  at 
this  critical  moment  when  so  much  depended  upon 
his  taking  a  fresh  start  in  the  good  graces  of  the 
Hope  family. 

Jack  had  selected  for  his  opening  shots  into  the 
fortress  the  person  of  a  plain  cousin  from  Mrs.  Hope's 
native  town,  the  success  of  whose  social  career  in 
New  York  during  her  visit  to  her  relatives  was  their 
unending  care.  To  this  pleasingly  surprised  young 
woman  he  now  devoted  himself  without  flagging, 
earning  from  the  hostess,  who  had  told  him  off  to 
take  her  poor,  dear  Adelaide  in  to  dinner,  a  warmth 
of  regard  long  absent  from  her  bosom  so  far  as  con 
cerned  him. 

Rex,  who  had  found  out  his  own  blessed  fate  in 
Miss  Hope's  name  written  on  a  card  and  stuck  into  a 
narrow  envelop  presented  to  him  on  arrival  by  the 
butler  in  the  hall,  did  not  scruple  to  stand  back  and 
desist  from  effort  of  any  kind  to  be  agreeable  to 
others  in  the  interim.  Although  conscious  that 
he  was  a  man  of  mark  in  this  small,  brilliant  circle 
of  opinion-makers  and  critics,  he  was  by  nature  so 
devoid  of  ability  to  pose  that  he  could  not  for  the 
life  of  him  feign  an  interest  he  did  not  feel  in 
individuals. 

He  was  not  gauche,  since  conventional  society  of 
the  highest  accepted  type  in  many  other  countries 
had  already  claimed  him.  London,  Paris,  Rome, 


152  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

Cairo,  the  Riviera,  had  all  stretched  out  their  gloved 
right  hands  to  welcome  the  heir  of  Job  Adamson's 
millions.  Dames  of  lineage  longer  than  any  Amer 
ica  can  show  had  signified  their  willingness  to 
adopt  him  into  the  intimacy  of  their  home  life ;  and 
from  the  whole  glittering  galaxy  he  had  escaped 
unscathed  and  indifferent.  "A  man's  man,"  they 
had  called  him,  settling  down  to  find  an  excuse  for 
this  exasperating  calm. 

In  secret  he  was  trying  to  subdue  the  impatience 
that  possessed  his  soul  at  the  delay  necessary  upon 
the  non-arrival  of  some  missing  guests;  ready  to 
murder  two  respectable  citizens  who,  to  dine  in  the 
Hopes'  locality,  had  been  obliged  to  drive  down  three 
good  miles  of  the  avenue.  When  the  couple  finally 
came  in,  the  lady  out  of  breath  and  flurried,  the 
husband  slinking  behind  her  with  a  hang-dog  air, 
both  reiterating  explanations  that  they  did  not  yet 
know  how  to  allow  for  driving  distances  in  Greater 
New  York,  Rex  Adamson  felt  a  hot  bound  of  the 
heart.  He  was  now  at  liberty  to  go  over  and  take  a 
proprietary  stand  at  Lucy's  side.  Directly,  her  hand 
rested  like  a  snowflake  upon  his  coat-sleeve,  and  they 
had  fallen  into  line. 

"  I  am  rejoiced  we  are  moving  on— for  you,"  she 
said  mischievously.  "  I  caught  one  glimpse  of  your 
face  just  now,  and,  as  plainly  as  words  could  speak, 
it  said,  *  I  'm  simply  ravening  for  my  dinner.'  Oh ! 
don't  protest.  I  feel  for  you— half -past  eight,  nearly, 
and  you  've  probably  had  no  afternoon  tea.  I  mean, 
it's  really  cruel  to  men — working-men — though  of 
course  you  're  only  a  lily  of  the  field — the  way  our 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  153 

hours  are  arranged.  Laurie  comes  in  half  starved  at 
six,  having  had  nothing  but  a  sandwich  or  a  plate  of 
soup  since  breakfast,  and  then,  if  he  's  dining  out, 
has  to  dress  and  speed  miles  away  before  he  can 
get  a  mouthful  at  eight. 

"  He  went  to  an  eight-fifteen  dinner  the  other  night, 
where  there  was  to  be  some  electrical  surprise  in  the 
dining-room  to  greet  the  guests  as  they  went  in.  The 
electricity  would  n't  work,  a  mechanic  had  to  be  sent 
for,  the  guests  sat  around  in  melancholy  pairs  in  the 
drawing-room  and  talked  more  and  more  feebly  until 
they  were  faint.  Finally  Laurie  heard  a  man  near 
him  say  to  his  companion :  1 1  'm  awfully  sorry,  but 
when  I  have  to  wait  for  food  it  makes  me  positively 
savage,  and  drives  me  to  wish  to  take  people's  heads 
off.  So,  if  you  don't  mind,  I  won't  try  to  answer 
you.'  She  cried  out :  '  Oh,  I  'm  so  glad !  I  was  just 
thinking  I  'd  hate  you  if  I  had  to  say  another  word.' 
Then  neither  spoke  again.  The  company  were  just 
praying  that  they  'd  send  around  dinner-rolls  or  meat- 
lozenges— anything  to  save  life— when,  at  nine,  the 
dinner  was  announced.  The  result  was,  nobody 
looked  at  the  pretty  show  of  lights  and  flowers  in  the 
dining-room,  everybody  fell  in  an  awful  silence  upon 
bread  and  raw  oysters,  and  when  those  were  con 
sumed  resorted  surreptitiously  to  the  side-dishes  of 
little  cakes  and  things." 

"  This  is  a  proper  rebuke  for  my  stupid  appear 
ance.  But  my  thoughts  were  guiltless  of  desire  for 
food.  The  truth  is,  I  don't  know  how  to  be  pliant 
and  appear  unto  men  to  be  other  than  I  am.  And  I 
was  so  awfully  impatient  to  be  able  to  take  you  in." 


154  THE  CIRCLE  OP  A  CENTUEY 

Never  had  a  young  sovereign  of  hearts  a  more 
spontaneous  compliment.  The  frankness  of  it  was, 
in  Lucy's  eyes,  its  most  charming  feature.  She  dim 
pled  with  satisfaction,  and  in  the  midst  of  this  emo 
tion  caught  a  glance  from  Jack,  who,  with  the  plain 
cousin,  had  found  places  at  the  extreme  end  of  the 
table,  whence  he  could  see  Lucy  only  by  dodging 
around  a  cluster  of  pink  roses.  Lucy  shot  back  at 
him  a  brief  answering  look,  so  different  in  quality  to 
the  one  just  bestowed  upon  Rex  that  he,  poor  fellow, 
fell  as  if  from  a  balloon  to  earth. 

It  was  a  girl's  look  she  gave  Jack,  altogether  maid 
enly,  yet  fond  and  trustful,  as  to  one  over  whom  she 
exercised  a  sheltering  influence,  in  whose  successes 
she  rejoiced,  for  whose  mischances  she  would  always 
sorrow.  But,  as  no  language  could  have  done,  it 
convinced  Rex  of  his  own  madness  in  yielding  to  the 
charm  of  the  moment  and  forgetting  why  he  had 
come  into  this  house.  Thenceforward  Miss  Lucy 
should  have  from  him  no  more  pretty  speeches. 

With  a  directness  that  was  part  of  her,  she  spoke 
to  him  at  once  of  Jack. 

"  If  I  had  not  heard  of  you  from  Laurie,"  she  said, 
"I  should  have  welcomed  you  heartily  on  Jack's 
account.  He  says  I  must  trust  you  as  his  best  friend 
— that  without  you  none  of  this  good  luck  would 
have  come  to  him.  When  mama  told  me  you  were 
to  take  me  in  to-night  I  was  delighted,  Mr.  Adamson. 
I  was  longing  for  an  opportunity  to  talk  to  you 
about  poor  Jack.  You  can't  think  what  faith  I  have 
in  him.  His  is  such  a  beautiful  nature,  so  generous, 
so  forgiving,  so  brave— and  no  one  has  seemed  to  un- 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  155 

derstand  him  or  to  give  him  credit  for,  any  real  pur 
pose.  But  I  do  !  "  she  added  triumphantly,  turning 
upon  Rex  her  childlike  gaze.  "And  you  must,  too, 
since  you  are  his  best  friend.  You  and  I  must  be 
friends  also— must  n't  we?  If  I  could  only  speak  of 
him  to  Laurie,  who  's  like  my  other  self,  it  would  be 
so  good;  but  my  brother  holds  back  when  Jack  is 
mentioned ;  and  as  to  my  parents,  they  tolerate  him 
only  because  of  family  ties.  We  are  terrible  people 
for  family  ties,  Mr.  Adamson.  All  of  us  make  little 
shrines  and  burn  incense  to  our  own  kin— though  we 
do  reserve  the  right  of  having  little  spats  among 
ourselves.  I  don't  think  I  could  say  how  long  ago 
it  was  I  began  to  take  Jack's  side — long  before  he 
noticed  me. 

"  We  were  at  Newport  one  summer,  and  something 
had  happened  about  Jack  that  I  never  could  under 
stand—no  one  would  explain  it  to  me.  But  the 
whole  family  sat  around  and  looked  gloomy,  and 
hushed  it  up,  and  sighed  when  his  name  was  spoken. 
That  was  the  first  time  I  felt  that  I  'd  like  to  stand 
up  for  him  before  the  world.  I  just  spoke  out  at 
table  and  said,  '  He  is  a  splendid  fellow,  and  I  '11  never 
believe  a  word  against  him ' ;  and  then  they  scolded 
me,  and  I  cried  and  ran  out  of  the  room.  Last  sum 
mer,  when  I  met  him  in  the  country,  I  was  almost  in 
society,  but  he  seemed  to  have  just  discovered  my 
existence.  It  was  rather  mortifying,  but— oh !  I 
know  you  know  the  rest,"  she  added,  blushing  to  her 
hair.  "He  's  told  me  you  are  his  only  confidant,  and 
that  I  'm  to  look  to  you,  as  he  does,  for  good  advice. 
You  may  be  sure  I  intend  to  do  so ;  for  sometimes  I 


156  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

feel  so  unhappy,  you  can't  think.  But  to-night  I  am 
happy,  because  I  believe  it 's  all  coming  right  at  last 
and  Jack  will  win  the  place  he  deserves,  and  every 
body  will  see  him  as  he  is.  And  it 's  you  we  shall 
have  to  thank !  " 

Animating  as  she  pursued  her  theme,  fresh  blushes 
deepening  the  carmine  of  her  round  young  cheeks, 
her  guileless  eyes  had  sought  his  with  an  expression 
of  gratitude  and  confidence  that  knocked  at  the  very 
portals  of  his  heart.  Karely  had  he  been  brought 
into  contact  with  a  girl  so  young,  so  absolutely  with 
out  the  art  of  concealing  her  emotion.  The  fervor 
of  her  championship  for  her  lover  had  in  it,  he  dis 
cerned,  something  of  the  spirit  that  would  have 
prompted  her  to  dash  to  the  defense  of  a  favorite  dog 
set  upon  by  others  of  his  species  and  in  danger  of 
being  overmatched. 

Bex  almost  groaned  as  the  conviction  of  her  utter 
innocence  concerning  Jack's  real  self  forced  itself 
upon  him.  What  manner  of  man  was  he  to  take  ad 
vantage  of  it  by  coming  into  her  home  as  a  shield  to 
their  entanglement  ? 

He  tried  to  fancy  .his  feelings  toward  one  who 
would  so  act  toward  a  young  sister  of  his  own. 

"  I  believe  I  'd  shoot  him  on  sight,  the  rascal !  "  he 
thought,  while  turning  aside,  in  answer  to  a  movement 
from  the  lady  on  his  left,  to  chat  for  a  while  with  her. 

Luckily  this  lady  was  Mrs.  Arrowtip. 

"  I  have  been  noticing  that  our  little  Lucy  has  had 
the  conversation  all  to  herself,"  she  said.  "  You  must 
remember  that  she 's  not  only  a  type  of  the  American 
young  girl  of  gentle  breeding  in  her  primal  freshness, 


IN  NEW  YOEK  OF  TO-DAY  157 

but  a  great  darling  in  this  household,  who  are  in  the 
habit  of  listening  and  applauding  when  she  speaks. 
I  'm  afraid  she  '11  lose  that  enthusiasm  of  tempera 
ment  soon  enough,  but  she  is  n't  spoiled  yet ;  and  I 
find  her  a  thousand  times  more  interesting  than  one 
of  those  fashionable  automata  I  most  often  meet,  who 
look  wan  and  lifeless  before  their  time." 

"  You  would  have  enjoyed  a  discussion  to  which  I 
listened  in  the  small  hours  at  my  club  last  night. 
The  subject  was,  in  sum,  the  check  of  old-fashioned 
courtship  by  the  excessive  artificiality  of  manners  and 
customs  here.  Of  course  I  took  no  part  in  it,  but 
I  received  much  light  in  my  darkness  of  ignorance. 
It  appears  that  some  of  the  fair  maidens  of  high  so 
ciety  in  New  York  are  so  hedged  in  by  conventional 
rules,  or  so  afraid  of  being  mistaken  for  Daisy  Millers, 
or  what  not,  they  go  season  after  season  unclaimed, 
if  not  fancy-free." 

"  That 's  just  about  what  those  men  would  be  likely 
to  think  about  it,"  said  the  widow,  mockingly.  "  But 
I  '11  admit  the  girls  and  young  men  now  seem  to  '  take 
their  amusements  sadly,'  according  to  the  standards 
of  my  day." 

"  By  Jove,  that  's  it.  Several  of  the  fellows  said 
they  had  heard  their  fathers  and  mothers  talking 
about  certain  conditions  of —ahem— social  intercourse 
between  marriageable  persons — ' 

"You  render  it  in  very  noble  language." 

"  Well,  the  amount  of  it  was  that  there  were  lots 
more  chances  in  those  days  for  men  and  girls  to  find 
out  they  were  in  love  with  each  other.  The  way  it 
is  now  is  more  French  than  American,  and  we  have 


158  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

no  fathers  and  mothers  to  put  on  white  gloves  and 
do  the  needful  popping  for  a  fellow." 

"  Poor,  timid  creatures !  That  accounts,  then,  for 
the  extraordinary  languishment  of  engagements  in  a 
certain  set.  The  few  the  newspapers  can  get  hold  of 
are  a  perfect  boon." 

"  Not  entirely.  The  men  I  talked  with  claim  that 
too  much  money  on  the  girls'  side  and  the  lack  of  it 
on  the  men's  are  most  common  obstacles.  And  even 
a  moderately  well  off  fellow— one  in  receipt  of  a  fair 
income  earned  by  himself,  I  mean— dare  n't  venture 
to  marry  a  girl  brought  up  like  one  of  those  who 
think  themselves  specially  fitted  to  take  any  rank  that 
Europe  can  offer.  How  could  he,  without  risking 
eternal  smash  in  a  year  or  two  ?  The  plain  fact,  Mrs. 
Arrowtip,  is  that  ours  is  the  most  undemocratic,  the 
most  hedged  in,  little  society  of  any  capital  I  ever 
saw.  And  I  judge  only  in  the  most  superficial  man 
ner,  from  what  I  've  seen  here  and  heard  said  abroad. 
You  know,  I  'm  in  every  sense  a  new-comer." 

"Monsieur  le  bienvenu,"  she  said,  bowing  graciously, 
and  making  Adamson  feel,  somehow,  immediately  at 
ease.  "  You  can't  think  how  it  interests  me  to  get 
impressions  at  first  hand  from  a  man  who  has  been 
bred  abroad  and  has  yet  inborn  sympathies  with  us. 
I  wish  you  would  tell  me  if  your  views  chime  in  with 
mine  in  one  particular.  Are  n't  we —  and  our  class,  I 
mean— at  this  fag-end  of  the  century,  although  in 
possession  of  material  benefits  undreamed  of  fifty 
years  ago,  wholly  dissatisfied  with  our  lot  ?  I  never 
see  what  I  call  a  perfectly  happy  }roung  face.  It  is 
their  elders,  who  have  learned  to  take  life  as  it  comes, 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  159 

who  seem  more  in  tune  with  destiny.  The  young 
men— again  I  mean  of  our  especially  small  class- 
appear  to  have  no  ambition  to  open  the  world's  oyster 
with  their  swords ;  and  the  girls  are  restless,  follow 
ing  out  a  hundred  fads,  yet  doing  nothing  thoroughly. 
It  makes  me  sigh  for  the  old  times  of  my  girlhood, 
when  we  were  a  smaller  band,  more  coalesced  by 
common  interest,  more  easily  amused;  the  days 
when  it  was  considered  witty  to  declare,  '  A  man  with 
$500,000  is  just  as  well  off  as  if  he  were  rich.' » 

"  I  have  heard  my  father  say  that  my  grandfather 
got  hold  of  his  first  '  lump  sum '  by  simply  foreseeing 
that  railroads  were  going  to  empty  our  West  into  Euro 
pean  markets;  and  that  when  he  got  it  he  did  n't 
know  how  to  spend  any  more  money  than  he  was 
already  spending.  He  could  n't  imagine  anything 
else  he  wanted !  Then  our  war  came  along  and  cre 
ated  a  new  era,  when  everybody's  ideas  blossomed 
out." 

"And  here  we  are  on  the  brink  of  another  war. 
Perhaps  that 's  what  we  all  need  to  clear  the  mental 
and  moral  atmosphere.  But  I  hope  Heaven  will  be 
merciful,  and  not  allow  our  ideas  of  prodigality 
and  luxury  to  blossom  out  any  further  as  a  conse 
quence.  There  are  aspects  in  which  it  might  be  a 
blessing.  There  would  certainly  be  some  call  upon 
the  tremendous  physical  energies  young  fellows  now 
waste  upon  polo  and  golf  and  athletics  of  all  kinds, 
and  it  remains  to  be  seen  how  they  '11  meet  it." 

"  I  hope  not  to  be  put  to  the  test  in  that  way," 
said  he,  modestly;  "but  I  can  fancy  not  holding 
back." 


160  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

"  If  we  get  upon  the  subject  of  the  De  Lome  inci 
dent,  and  the  Maine,  our  friendship  will  be  swamped. 
I  can  see  that  you  're  conservative,  and,  as  I  'm  a  ter 
rible  Jingo,  we  had  better  stop  now.  Do  you  observe 
the  man  on  my  other  side,  who  brought  me  in  ?  He 
and  I  have  n't  spoken  for  a  year.  They  rented  my 
cottage  at  Newport,  and  we  had  a  difference  about 
a  dumb-waiter.  If  you  wish  to  alienate  your  bosom 
friends,  let  them  your  house.  They  will  attribute  to 
your  personal  malignity  every  hole  in  the  bottom  of 
a  saucepan,  every  dish  smashed  by  their  own  domes 
tics,  and  will  not  scruple  to  take  away  your  good 
name  by  gossip  about  you.  By  some  accident  my 
card  got  into  his  envelop,  and  when  he  came  to  offer 
me  his  arm  I  knew  his  knees  were  tottering  with 
fear.  But  I  resolved  to  astonish  him  by  my  amia 
bility,  and  have  been  so  sweet  that  I  fancy  he  '11  want 
to  rent  my  house  again:  However,  I  '11  draw  back 
before  that  crisis ;  but  here  goes  to  continue  his  be 
wilderment." 

As  she  turned  away  with  a  comic  arching  of  the 
eyebrows,  Rex  was  at  leisure  to  resume  his  study  of 
his  own  particular  comrade.  Lucy's  countenance, 
when  she  again  bestowed  it  on  him,  was  so  striking  a 
reproduction  of  the  old  portrait  in  the  middle  draw 
ing-room  that  he  could  not  resist  again  commenting 
on  the  fact,  and  in  so  doing  felt  a  betraying  tremor 
in  his  voice. 

"Apropos  of  that  picture,  something  very  strange 
has  come  to  my  knowledge  since  I  first  met  you,"  she 
said,  speaking  in  a  low  tone.  "  It  seems  that  your 
intuition  about  it  had  some  foundation  in  fact.  After 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  161 

you  were  here  I  asked  my  father  some  questions 
about  the  '  Lady  of  the  Duel,'  and  obtained  his  per 
mission  for  the  first  time  to  overhaul  an  old  box  of 
letters,  tied  in  different  parcels  with  faded  ribbons, 
which  had  belonged  to  the  epoch  of  my  great-grand- 
mama.  I  spent  a  whole  rainy  day  absorbing  them 
eagerly,  but  have  been  able  to  find  no  one  in  the 
house  who  has  time  to  listen  to  my  story  of  their  con 
tents.  Now,  be  surprised !  At  the  very  end  of  the 
collection  I  came  upon  three  of  the  sweetest,  quaint 
est,  saddest  little  letters,  addressed  to  '  Mrs.  Lucilla 
Hope/  and  signed  *  Eve  Adamson '  I  You  don't 
know  how  exciting  this  was  to  me.  I  read  them  again 
and  again,  but  could  not  make  out  much.  They 
were  written  in  answer  to  some  from  Mrs.  Hope, 
who  was  then  living  at  Warriner  Manor  up  the  Hud 
son,  an  old  place  she  had  for  life  by  her  first  hus 
band's  will.  The  subjects  were  principally  health  and 
children  and  current  events,— the  usual  things  be 
tween  friends,— but  in  one  of  them  Mrs.  Adamson 
says,  as  nearly  as  I  can  remember  it :  'If  your  good 
husband  has  not  already  enlightened  you,  let  me  dis 
claim  any  right  to  your  too  flattering  praise  by  say 
ing  that  what  I  have  received  from  his  family  in  the 
past  is  far  more  than  God  gave  me  strength  to 
render  him  in  return.  Your  friendship  alone  would 
have  been  rich  requital,  and  I  can  only  pray  that  this 
tie  will  be  ever  continued  betwixt  mine  and  thine ! ' 
She  goes  on  to  speak  of  her  kind  husband's  prosperity 
in  business ;  of  her  father's  recent  death ;  and  of  her 
three  '  dear  little  boys/  who  are  '  passing  delicate.' 
Now,  won't  you  please  lend  all  the  powers  of  your 


162  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

mind  to  finding  out  who  '  Eve  Adamson '  was  ?  And 
I  should  be  so  much  pleased  if  she  were  to  turn  out 
to  be  somebody  of  your  very  own." 

"  Do  you  mean  it  ? "  he  said,  with  a  thrill  of  pleasure ; 
"  for  she  was,  in  fact,  my  ancestress." 

"  Oh,  how  nice !  for  there  are  Jack  and  you  and 
me  brought  together  in  this  generation  by  hereditary 
right." 

"  Oh,  yes,  of  course,"  answered  Rex,  rather  flatly. 
"  I  had  forgotten  Jack's  share  in  the  combination." 

"  Why,  he  represents  the  villain  of  the  piece.  His 
ancestor  challenged  mine  because  they  were  both  in 
love  with  the  lady  in  the  portrait,  and  mine  got  her. 
Just  where  yours  came  in  I  don't  know,  but  we  will 
both  read  up  diligently  and  find  out.  Do  you  know, 
Laurie  does  n't  care  a  bit  for  genealogies  and  by 
gones?  He  says  those  old  people  did  nothing  for 
him,  and  I  tell  him  he  's  more  interested  in  what  's 
going  on  down-town  to-day  than  in  anything  else  in 
the  world.  Except  one  thing.  Did  you  find  out 
Laurie's  soft  spot  while  you  were  together  on  the 
voyage,  Mr.  Adamson?" 

''His  sister?"  asked  Rex,  smiling. 

"No-o;  of  course  not!  What  is  a  sister  but  a 
necessary  incidental,  to  be  walked  over  while  a  man 
lives  at  home,  and  forsaken  just  as  soon  as  he  can 
annex  another  fellow's  sister?  Is  it  possible  you 
did  n't  find  out— knowing  Jack  so  intimately,  too 
—  that  Laurie  is  far  gone  in  love  with  Bessie  War- 
riner?  They  can't  call  themselves  engaged,  because 
they  've  nothing  to  marry  on,  and  it  's  awfully  slow 
for  Laurie  getting  ahead.  But  nothing  would  tempt 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  163 

either    one   of    them  to  think  of   another  person, 
ever. 

"  Meantime,  Mrs.  Warriner  and  our  mother  preserve 
an  armed  neutrality  toward  each  other— exchange 
visits,  and  pretend  they  never  heard  of  anything  be 
tween  their  respective  treasures.  Some  of  these  days, 
when  Jack's  and  Laurie's  ships  come  in—  Dear 
me,  how  long  ships  take  to  come  in,  don't  they?" 
she  added,  with  a  sudden  change  from  gay  to  grave, 
heaving  a  little  sigh. 

Decidedly,  Rex  had  never  met  any  one  who  so  com 
bined  childish  artlessness  with  womanly  intuition. 
He  looked  at  her  with  reverence,  and  pity,  too,  re 
solving  to  speak  no  word  that  would  shatter  her 
young  beliefs. 

"  Laurie's  ship  will  not  be  delayed  much  longer," 
he  said,  chiming  in  with  her  fancy.  "  He  is  of  the 
stuff  that  makes  our  successful  citizens.  I  envy  him  his 
perfect  adaptability  to  his  surroundings,  his  content 
ment  with  his  lot,  and  his  quiet  determination  to 
push  ahead.  The  short  time  that  I  have  been  at 
home  trying  to  fit  myself  into  my  father's  affairs  has 
convinced  me  that  for  a  young  man  to  be  happy  in 
New  York  he  must  have  been  born,  bred,  and  edu 
cated  to  its  exactions.  Our  town  is  a  good  mother, 
but  a  'stony-hearted  stepmother.'  Imagine  coming 
home  from  a  long  absence  to  find  life  here  going  on 
with  the  swing  and  relentless  purpose  of  a  huge  ma 
chine,  no  one  stopping  or  turning  aside  to  do  more 
than  greet  another  in  passing.  If  you  idle,  you  are 
scorned  as  a  cumberer  of  the  earth;  and,  indeed,  if 
you  so  much  as  pause  by  the  way  to  wonder  at  cer- 


164  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

tain  existing  defects  in  legislation,  or  monopolies,  or 
chicanery  in  commerce,  your  fate  is  sealed.  You  are 
a  snob,  a  carper,  an  unreal  product  of  your  native 
soil.  I  refused  to  converse  with  a  man  yesterday 
who  swooped  down  on  me  to  participate  in  what  I 
took  to  be  a  rather  disgraceful  business  scheme ;  and 
he  went  off  warning  me  that  I  am  already  spoken  of 
as  a  degenerate  scion  of  my  father's  house.  If  they 
would  only  give  me  time  to  get  my  breath !  Your 
brother,  on  the  contrary,  is  'inside.'  He  knows  it 
all,  can  draw  conclusions  at  his  ease,  and  need  make 
no  mistakes.  Depend  upon  it,  it  is  he,  not  I,  who 
may  be  looked  on  as  a  patriotic  prop  of  the  twentieth 
century.  But  this  is  not  dinner-table  chat  for  a 
young  lady  in  her  first  season." 

"I  can  see  you  are  in  earnest,  so  I  like  it!  "  she 
exclaimed  candidly.  "  The  idea  of  putting  my  poor 
dear  Laurie's  prospects  ahead  of  yours  is  most  amus 
ing.  Why,  to  hear  women  talk,  you  are— but  I  won't 
turn  your  head.  I  want  your  best  judgment  to  keep 
Jack  up  to  the  mark,  as  he  has  begun.  Don't  you 
really  think,  Mr.  Adamson,  that  Jack  has  one  of  the 
finest  minds  you  know  ?  He  could  do  anything,  if  he 
only  got  started  right.  And  now  you  have  started 
him,  all  will  go  well ;  I  am  sure  it  will.  I  want  some 
day  to  be  able  to  exhibit  Jack  triumphantly  to  the 
unbelievers  of  my  family  as  a  steady,  hard-working 
business  man.  Then  you  and  I  will  secretly  rejoice 
and  plume  ourselves,  won't  we,  Mr.  Adamson  ?  Do 
you  know,  it  is  so  nice  having  some  one  to  whom  I 
can  talk  about  poor  Jack !  " 

Jack,  always  Jack !     Adamson,  while  wincing,  bore 


IN  NEW  YORK  OP  TO-DAY  165 

it  manfully.  It  was  better  that  he  should  be  kept  in 
mind. 

When  they  left  the  table  and  the  men  adjourned  to 
a  smoking-room  up-stairs,  Laurence  Hope  joined  Rex 
and  took  him  off  to  a  quiet  corner  where  they  could 
talk  undisturbed. 

Lucy's  second  hero  was  a  tall,  open-faced  youth, 
without  his  sister's  glowing  beauty,  but  like  her  in 
going  straight  to  the  point  when  there  was  anything 
on  his  mind. 

"  I  saw  you  talking  to  my  sister  at  dinner,  Adam- 
son,"  the  young  man  said,  without  affectation ;  "  and 
knowing  that  you  are  friends  with  Warriner,  and  all 
that,  I  think  it  only  fair  to  suggest  to  you  that  I 
hope  you  won't  encourage  her  in  her  delusions  about 
him.  How  far  they  Ve  gone  I  don't  know ;  but  I  do 
know  that  if  my  father  suspected  what  I  do  he  'd  be 
likely  to  order  the  door  shut  in  that  man's  face.  As 
matters  are,  we  being  old  friends, — and  part  relations, 
I  believe, — it 's  very  hard  to  draw  the  line  against  him. 
The  fact  that  he  's  always  fascinated  silly  women 
makes  me  sick  when  I  think  that  she  may  be  fancy 
ing  herself  taken  with  him.  I  had  n't  seen  them  to 
gether  for  ages  till  to-night,  when,  by  George  !  I  saw 
a  look  passing  between  them  that  choked  me.  Adam- 
son,  I  could  n't  rest  till  I  warned  you.  I  felt  sure, 
from  her  face  when  she  was  talking  to  you,  that  he 
was  the  subject.  There  's  more  than  one  reason  why 
the  matter  's  as  difficult  as  a  hedgehog  for  me  to 
handle.  I  can't  go  to  him,  as  I  would  to  another  fel 
low  of  his  stripe,  and  tell  him  my  plain  opinion ;  and 
I  can't  inform  on  him  to  my  father,  still  less  set  my 


166  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

mother  on  the  scent.  I  ought  rather  to  protect  him, 
and  let  him  reap  every  benefit  on  God's  earth  that  's 
likely  to  come  to  him  from  this  chance  you  've  helped 
him  to  get.  But  put  yourself  in  my  place,  and  say  if 
you  would  like  your  sister  to — a  girl  of  nineteen, 
who  's  been  shut  in  like  a  nun— oh  !  it 's  impossible, 
intolerable,  and  I  can't  even  ask  you  to  condemn 
him  !  Perhaps  I  'm  wronging  you  in  suggesting  that 
you  would  voluntarily  let  her  run  upon  this  snag. 
If  you  suspected  anything,  you  could  hardly — Adam- 
son,  this  is  n't  the  place  for  such  a  talk,  and  I  'm  in 
my  own  house,  while  he  's  my  mother's  guest;  but 
you  and  I  know  Jack  Warriner  down  to  the  ground, 
and  you  must  believe  that  I  '11  fight  the  world  rather 
than  let  him  get  hen." 

Adamson,  who  had  listened  without  stirring  to 
the  young  man's  rapid,  excited  speech,  tried  to  weigh 
well  the  words  in  which  to  answer  him. 

Thus  pondering,  he  looked  Lucy's  brother  full  in 
the  eyes. 

"  Oh,  I  say  —  it  was  brutally  rude  of  me  to  do  this," 
went  on  Laurie,  before  the  other  man  could  speak ; 
"  but  I  don't  think  I  was  ever  more  boiling  angry 
than  this  idea  has  made  me;  and  I  had  to  speak 
it  out.  It  is  n't  square  to  ask  you  to  turn  on  him 
here,  now,  under  these  circumstances.  I  beg  your 
pardon  if  I  've  done  a  rather  nasty  thing.  I  sup 
pose  it  was  realizing  what  kind  of  a  fellow  you  are, 
and  knowing  that  you  'd  stuck  by  Jack  as  man  to 
man,  without  considering  the  things  that  have  got 
to  rule  me,  that  made  me  pour  it  out  on  you.  No, 


IN  NEW  YOKK  OF  TO-DAY  167 

don't  answer  me ;  not  a  word ;  what  I  've  said  I  Ve 
said,  and  please  consider  there  's  an  end  of  it." 

"  If  there  were  n't  all  these  other  people  looking  on 
I  'd  like  to  shake  hands  with  you,"  said  Adamson. 

And  then  Mr.  Hope,  senior,  caine  up  and  dropped 
into  a  chair  beside  the  young  magnate,  whom  he  had 
decided  to  be  a  very  interesting  jm  de  siecle  study ; 
and  Laurie  took  his  pangs  and  fears  away. 


IV 


RS.  HOPE'S  large,  old-fashioned  draw 
ing-rooms  were  again  thrown  open  to 
her  friends.  This  time  the  occasion  was 
a  sewing-class  of  an  unusually  inter 
esting  variety. 
It  was  not  one  of  those  opportunities  to  discuss 
the  fate  of  nations  and  the  faults  of  man  to  slow  mu 
sic  and  slower  recitations  —  when  night-gowns  and 
petticoats  for  the  infant  poor  lie  prone  across  silken 
laps  while  conversation  quickens  in  the  air,  and 
when  the  hour  of  parting  scatters  to  their  carriages 
devotees  bearing  off  unfinished  tasks  to  be  concluded 
by  their  maids  at  home. 

In  the  morning  sunshine,  streaming  through  win 
dows  that  looked  out  on  a  pleasant  square,  were 
gathered  fifty  or  more  matrons,  assorted  in  age  and 
size,  but  distinctly  of  the  chaperoning,  dinner-giving 
set.  From  tables  piled  with  neat  rolls  of  flannel  a 
few  organizing  spirits  were  distributing  to  applicants, 
as  they  came  in,  the  abdominal  bandages  prescribed 
by  medical  authority  for  the  use  of  soldiers  in  a 
tropic  clime.  Equipped  with  one  of  these  to  hem 
and  supply  with  tapes,  each  lady  took  her  place  in 
the  group  of  friends  found  by  her  to  be  most  con 
genial.  Here  were  no  languorous  needles  seen.  All 

168 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  169 

was  industry,  and  the  swelling  chorus  of  chat  was 
charged  with  an  unwonted  note  of  gravity  in  face  of 
the  possible  issue  of  the  struggle  for  which  they  were 
thus  beginning  to  provide. 

The  great  wave  of  popular  resentment  that  had 
swept  over  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land  after 
the  catastrophe  of  the  Maine  had  been  met  in  a  more 
hold-back  spirit  by  New-Yorkers  than  by  their  breth 
ren  of  the  West  and  South.  In  clubs  and  dining- 
rooms,  down  town  and  up,  the  matter  was  discussed 
incessantly  but  with  conservatism — especially  by  the 
elders  of  the  community. 

They  did  not  yearn  for  a  war  with  Spain  in  behalf 
of  suffering  Cuba.  To  their  minds,  it  looked  as  if  the 
starving  reconcentrados  would  be  all  in  their  graves 
before  the  American  troops  could  be  fitly  prepared  to 
fight  their  battles.  They  were  not  sufficiently  worked 
up  to  righteous  indignation  against  the  oppressors  of 
their  neighbors  to  crave  sacrificing  to  it  the  health  and 
lives  of  their  own  beloved  sons  in  the  pestilential  cli 
mate  of  a  Cuban  summer.  And— perhaps— they  were 
not  satisfied  that  their  leaders  meant  to  carry  on  the 
war  solely  for  the  benefit  of  the  downtrodden  race  of 
aliens,  and  without  ulterior  and  selfish  purposes. 

But  everywhere  in  the  great  cosmopolitan  city  im 
petuous  youth  had  arrayed  itself  against  experi 
enced  age.  No  memories  of  the  awful  war  between 
the  States,  that,  even  at  this  late  date,  had  still  po 
tency  to  grip  the  heart  and  chill  the  blood  of  those 
who  grew  up  amid  its  dread  realities,  could  dissuade 
a  younger  generation  eager  for  a  new  fray  at  arms. 
While  to  all  the  armories  of  the  National  Guard  were 


170  THE  CIRCLE  OP  A  CENTURY 

trooping  applicants  for  admission  to  the  ranks,  young 
fellows  with  whom  their  parents  and  kinsmen  were 
exhausting  deterrent  influence  went  about  looking 
sore  and  sick  at  heart  with  hope  depressed.  And 
among  girls,  whose  knowledge  of  what  war  may  be 
was  a  happy  blank,  were  rehearsed  eager  expressions 
of  sympathy  for  those  would-be  warriors.  They 
could  not  understand— why  should  they?— any  rea 
son  in  the  attempt  to  curb  a  martial  spirit,  to  con 
demn  a  young  man's  pride  to  bleed  at  home,  instead 
of  allowing  him  to  take  the  risk  of  sacrificing  his 
life  among  comrades  in  the  field. 

And,  as  usual,  the  young  element  overpowered  the 
old.  The  inevitable  of  history  was  accomplished. 
The  stir  of  the  country  at  large  reached  the  secluded 
homes  of  the  wealthy  residents  of  New  York,  to  find 
them  ready  at  a  touch  to  yield  up  their  best.  Money 
flowed  like  a  river  to  establish  an  Ambulance  Corps 
and  Red  Cross  auxiliaries.  Young  men  who  were 
idling  abroad  came  home,  zealous  to  enlist  as  privates 
in  the  ranks  of  the  avenging  army.  Gently  bred  wo 
men  and  girls  stepped  forward  to  offer  themselves  as 
nurses  and  hospital  attendants,  however  humble  in 
capacity.  This  was  no  child's  play  in  the  name  of 
patriotism,  but  self-sacrifice  of  the  sort  that  effec 
tually  tests  the  souls  of  people. 

The  vote  of  Congress,  early  in  March,  to  appro 
priate  fifty  millions  of  money  for  national  defense 
startled  every  one,  even  to  the  last  unbeliever  and 
scoffer,  into  realizing  that  war  was  at  least  in  view. 

What  a  strange  cloud  hovered  all  that  spring  of 
1898  over  a  community  seemingly  unchanged  in  its 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  171 

performance  of  the  usual  functions  of  every  day! 
People  went  on  dressing,  dining,  theater-going,  spec 
ulating,  money-making,  wrangling  about  politics  or  re 
ligion,  abusing  each  other  in  print,  taking  thought 
for  the  morrow  of  their  business  and  pleasure — 
trying  all  the  while  to  ignore  the  fact  of  the  coming 
crash  of  armed  conflict. 

The  one  outward  visible  sign  of  anxiety  was  eager 
ness  to  devour  and  digest,  if  possible,  the  repeated 
extras  of  the  daily  press.  At  all  hours  of  the  day 
and  night  were  these  disturbers  of  the  peace,  with 
their  giant  head-lines  and  gory  imprints,  brought  into 
homes  and  read  between  heart-beats.  But  until 
April  was  well  advanced— nay,  until  the  day  the  wires 
flashed  to  a  waiting  world  the  final  refusal  jof  Spain 
to  withdraw  her  troops  from  Cuba  at  America's  de 
mand — there  was  always  room  for  hope  that  the  disas 
ter  was  not  to  come ! 

Thus  may  be  explained  an  apparent  levity  in  the 
earlier  attitude  of  many  New-Yorkers  regarding  the, 
situation.      They  were  like  children  who  had  played 
at  wolf  till  they  feared  no  longer,  yet  would  have 
been  glad  to  put  an  end  to  the  awesome  sport. 

Mrs.  Hope,  one  of  the  directors  of  the  sewing-class 
here  convened  for  special  patriotic  work,  did  not,  on 
the  bright  day  of  April  when  they  met  at  her  resi 
dence,  look  as  complacent  as  when  we  saw  her 
previously  in  the  season.  It  was  evident  that  her  cup 
of  personal  anxieties  was  overfull,  and  some  of  her 
more  intimate  acquaintances  had  shrewd  suspicions  as 
to  the  cause.  To-day,  when  she  was  brought  into  the 
very  focus  of  public  observation,  many  speculations 


172  THE  CIRCLE  OP  A  CENTURY 

were  hazarded  as  to  the  cause  of  her  evident  dis 
quietude  of  spirit. 

"  It  is  all  very  well  to  put  it  down  to  her  son 
Laurie's  being  likely  to  go  off  with  his  troop,"  said  a 
lady  in  a  group  remote  from  the  hostess's  position  by 
the  table.  "  That 's  bad  enough,  as  nobody  knows 
better  than  I,  who  can't  sleep  for  thinking  of  my  boy 
in  the  Naval  Reserve. 

"  Of  course  the  navy  will  have  to  bear  the  brunt  of 
it.  It  will  be  a  sea  battle,  my  husband  says,  short  and 
sharp ;  and  that  will  be  the  end.  But  one  is  always 
hoping  the  whole  thing  will  blow  by.  They  do  say," 
she  went  on,  dropping  her  voice  while  threading  a 
gold-eyed  needle,  "  Elizabeth  Hope  has  discovered  an 
attachment  between  her  idol,  Laurie,  and  little  Bessie 
Warriner." 

"  And  you  think  that 's  all  ?  Is  it  possible  you  have 
not  heard  of  the  story  that  's  just  come  out  about 
Lucy  and  that  good-for-nothing  Jack  1 " 

"  No.    What  ?    Anything  very  recent  ? " 

"  Yesterday,  only,  it  got  about.  I  'm  sure  all  the 
others  here  are  whispering  about  it,  so  why  should  n't 
we  ?  The  affair  between  Laurie  and  Bessie  does  n't 
count  in  comparison  with  this  other  business." 

"  Oh,  teU  me !     Please  don't  delay." 

"  My  daughters  heard  it  at  their  Red  Cross  meet 
ing,  yesterday,"  put  in  an  important-looking  dame, 
while  the  first  speaker  remained  in  an  agony  of  sus 
pended  curiosity.  "  No  one  knows  exactly  how  the 

facts  got  out,  but  it  happened  at  the Club,  where 

both  young  men  belong.  Laurie  Hope  had  some 
words  with  Jack  Warriner,  and,  it  is  said,  ordered  him 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  173 

not  to  come  near  this  house  again.  Jack  went  off  in 
another  one  of  those  terrible  drinking-fits,  and  told 
everybody  in  hearing  of  his  engagement  to  Lucy," 
whispered  the  happy  informant.  "  I  see  Lucy  's  not 
down-stairs  to-day,  so  it  must  be  true.  It  appears  the 
child  is  infatuated  with  Jack,  and  they  've  been  en 
gaged  for  months.  Should  n't  wonder  if  they  had 
her  stepping  out  of  the  house,  some  fine  day,  and  get 
ting  married  to  him  in  secret.  Well,  there  is  some 
excuse  for  a  little  young  thing  like  that  losing  her 
head  about  such  a  perfectly  handsome  man.  But 
you  remember,  my  dear,  that  affair  at  Newport 
several  years  ago— and  other  things.  Oh,  no ;  he  's 
no  husband  for  a  nice  girl;  and  besides,  they  'd 
starve  in  a  year,  at  best." 

"  Too  bad !  too  bad !  "  commented  the  important- 
looking  dame,  radiantly.  "I  always  tell  my  girls 
these  young  women  who  are  set  up  for  professional 
beauties  invariably  make  the  worst  matches  in  the 
world.  Everybody  knows,  too,  that  Mrs.  Hope  made 
a  tremendous  attempt  to  catch  young  Adamson  for 
her  daughter  when  he  first  came  home.  I  'm  told 
the  young  man— who,  dear  knows,  is  exceedingly 
snubby,  and  has  no  manners  that  I  can  see — saw 
through  her  in  a  minute,  and  simply  stopped  coming 
to  the  house.  No  inducement  could  bring  him  here 
now,  they  say." 

"Don't  talk  to  me  about  young  Adamson!"  ex 
claimed  the  third  lady  of  the  group,  stopping  to  hold 
up  her  half-completed  garment  with  an  improving 
air,  and  interpolating :  "  I  'm  giving  my  best  herring 
bone  to  the  poor,  dear  volunteers.  A  more  spoiled, 


174  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

uppish,  uninteresting  creature  than  '  Rex/  as  the  girls 
call  him,  I  've  never  seen.  A  complete  disappoint 
ment  to  society.  I  pity  the  woman  who  gets  him  for 
a  son-in-law ;  and  his  wife  will  always  have  to  dance 
round  to  the  tune  of  his  exactions.  I  can  fancy  him 
brutal,  if  his  temper  were  roused.  I  told  Mrs.  War- 
riner  long  ago,  when  she  was  credited  with  wanting 
him  for  Euphrosyne,  that  my  child  would  n't  take 
him  for  a  gift.  And  what  good  does  their  wealth  do 
him  or  the  public  ?  He  spends  nothing  on  himself  or 
anybody  else." 

"  The  papers  this  morning  say  young  Mr.  Adamson 
will  offer  his  splendid  new  yacht  as  a  gift  to  the  Gov 
ernment  before  it  's  been  put  in  commission— and  I 
know  of  a  lot  of  big  charities  that  he  's  given  to 
most  liberally,"  said  a  quiet  spinster  sitting  by,  who 
had  caught  the  final  clause  of  the  other's  speech. 
"  It  seems  to  me  he  has  a  very  unusual  sense  of  the 
duties  of  a  multi-millionaire.  He  does  not  succeed 
in  making  friends  with  his  followers  generally,  that 's 
clear;  and  then,  consider  how  many  he  's  had  to 
snub." 

"  Oh !  "  answered  the  important  lady,  huffily. 

Temporarily  silenced,  she  soon  returned  to  the 
charge. 

"  Poor  Mrs.  Hope !  She  looks  twice  her  age  to-day. 
Such  an  effort  as  it  must  have  been  to  push  Lucy 
on  this  winter,  and  the  girl  absolutely  ungrateful ! 
I  'm  struck  more  and  more  with  that  idea  of  her  run 
ning  off  with  Jack  Warriner  and  getting  married  on 
the  sly.  Since  you  suggested  it,  it  has  grown1  upon 
my  mind." 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  175 

"  Then  at  the  next  sewing-class  it  will  probably  be 
circulated  as  an  accomplished  fact,"  remarked  the 
quiet  spinster,  with  an  innocent  expression. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean/'  replied  the  impor 
tant  dame,  freezingly,  turning  her  back  to  pursue 
her  utterances  before  more  sympathetic  hearers,  but 
judging  it  wiser  to  refrain  from  further  reference  to 
the  Adamsons  and  Hopes. 

"  I  had  a  letter  from  my  niece,  Lady  Clevenden,  to 
day.  She  is  having  the  greatest  possible  success, 
and  is  in  the  smartest  set— not  the  Queen's,  of  course. 

"  Do  you  know,  I  've  written  to  my  agent  that  I  '11 
not  occupy  my  country  house  at  all  this  summer  ?  It 
is  so  near  the  coast,  I  should  think  it  in  the  highest 
degree  unsafe.  I  should  never  trust  those  Spaniards 
not  to  bombard  us  without  mercy,  if  their  squadron 
should  come  in  there.  Even  Newport  's  in  danger, 
so  they  say.  And  to  think  how  civil  people  were  to 
those  bloodthirsty  wretches  only  a  few  years  back. 
Treating  their  Eulalia  as  if  she  were  good-looking ! 

"  Imagine  any  one  having  the  heart  to  throw  shells 
among  the  lovely  houses  and  lawns  on  the  cliff  at 
Newport!  My  husband?  Cured  by  absent  treat 
ment,  my  dear ;  not  a  doubt  of  it,  though  our  family 
physician  came  three  times  a  day,  I  think  we  should, 
before  all  things,  be  broad  and  accept  the  new  ideas. 
Did  you  hear  that  Mrs.  Midas  has  cut  down  her  ball- 
and-dinner-list  to  fifty  ?  Says  she  can't  visit  more  than 
that  number ;  and  not  one  of  them  has  less  than  ten 
millions.  I  'm  told  it  's  a  fact.  She  's  been  mak 
ing  up  tremendously  to  young  Adamson ;  and  if  no 
duke  presents  himself  for  Miss  Midas,  perhaps  young 


176  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

Adamson  will  be  made  to  do.  The  conceit  of  Eliza 
beth  Hope— thinking  she  was  going  to  get  him  for 
poor  little  Lucy! 

"I  really  pity  these  people  who  fancy  they  can 
keep  up  with  society  on  the  strength  of  a  few  rusty 
old  grandfathers'  portraits  on  the  wall— and  the 
Warriners  are  worse  even  than  the  Hopes.  Well, 
I  've  finished  my  stint,  and  must  go.  Thirty  to  lun 
cheon  to-day — all  the  frumps  and  people  I  used  to 
know  before  we  moved.  Kill  all  my  birds  with  one 
stone,  as  I  told  my  husband.  My  chef,  who  is  the 
most  appreciative  creature,  understands  things  so 
thoroughly  that  he  brought  me  two  or  three  of  his 
second-class  menus  to  choose  between  for  this  lunch. 
How  tender  it  makes  one  feel  to  think  that  the  work 
of  one's  fingers  is  going  to  be  worn  by  a  soldier  boy 
battling  for  Cuba  Libre !  I  '11  just  slip  out  this  door 
without  letting  any  one  else  see  me,  so  good-by !  " 

"  Insufferable  woman !  "  observed  the  quiet  spin 
ster  to  the  two  ladies  remaining,  who  were  naturally 
not  averse  to  hearing  their  late  comrade  disposed  of. 
"  She  is  a  bundle  of  pretenses,  eaten  up  with  petty 
ambitions  that  are  not  gratified.  Her  sole  claim  to 
public  notice  is  her  money." 

"  Oh,  she  will  get  there !  She  is  on  the  way,"  an 
swered  the  busy  worker  with  the  gold-eyed  needle. 
"  That  enormous  new  house  has  turned  her  head,  as 
they  generally  do  at  first.  But  she  's  more  sure  of 
herself  than  she  used  to  be,  or  she  'd  never  have  ven 
tured  to  pick  holes  in  Elizabeth  Hope.  Last  year  she 
hung  round  the  Hopes'  necks  and  toadied  them  no 
end,  because  they  stand  for  the  old  regime.  There 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  177 

comes  Lucy  at  last— pretty  creature.  But  dear  me  ! 
she  looks  very  sad.  I  should  n't  have  known  the 
child." 

Poor  Lucy !  While  her  affairs  were  being  thus  ar 
ranged  for  her  by  the  voces  populi  of  "  polite  "  society, 
she  was  moving  about  the  room  very  quietly  and 
graciously,  greeting  her  mother's  friends,  and,  as 
quickly  as  might  be,  sat  down  under  the  wing  of 
Mrs.  Arrowtip,  who  had  tact  enough  to  make  no 
comment  upon  her  evidently  nervous  and  over 
strained  condition  of  mind. 

After  Lucy  had  stitched  vigorously  for  a  while 
upon  the  girdle  of  a  brave  defender,  Mrs.  Arrowtip 
took  the  opportunity,  when  a  friend  on  the  other  side 
had  turned  away,  to  look  again  at  the  girl ;  and  then 
addressed  her  casually : 

"  What  was  it  this  morning,  Lucy  ?  Slumming  or 
calisthenics,  drawing  or  Red  Cross?  You  girls  are 
so  taken  up  with  occupations,  one  never  presumes 
to  think  of  you  as  idling  like  the  heroines  of  old, 
who  remained  for  hours  in  contemplation  of  a 
rose." 

"  I  've  been  doing  nothing  better  or  worse  than 
listening  to  the  sorrows  of  the  housemaid,"  said 
Lucy,  trying  to  speak  lightly.  "  I  found  that  little 
rosy  German  girl  mama  got  last  dissolved  in  tears 
because  her  sweetheart  is  in  the  National  Guard,  and 
he  told  her  last  night  they  expect  soon  to  be  ordered 
to  the  South,  to  prepare  for  Cuba.  I  had  to  con 
vince  her  that  the  war  is  not  on  yet.  Mrs.  Arrowtip," 
she  added  in  quite  a  different  tone,  "  I  want  you  to 

do  me  the  greatest  favor  in  the  world." 
12 


178  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

The  two  sat  apart  from  the  others,  and  as  Lucy 
spoke  Mrs.  Arrowtip  moved  her  chair  into  the  bay- 
window,  pretending  to  need  more  light,  and  signaled 
her  to  follow. 

"  There,  now  no  one  can  hear  us.  What  is  it,  my 
dear  ? "  she  asked,  cheerfully. 

"  I  suppose  you  know— everybody  seems  to  know- 
that  Laurie  and  Jack  Warriner  have  had  a  quarrel 
about  me." 

"  Dear,  dear !  these  irrepressible  Warriners  and 
Hopes !  "  answered  Mrs.  Arrowtip,  letting  her  gaze 
rove  to  the  portrait  of  Lucy's  famous  ancestress,  the 
"  Lady  of  the  Duel."  "  Why  can't  they  desist  from  it, 
I  'd  like  to  know  ? " 

"  Nothing  can  come  of  this  but  misery  to  me,"  said 
the  girl,  drearily.  "  Laurie  found  out  from  me  that 
I  promised  to  marry  Jack  some  day,  and,  after  speak 
ing  to  me  as  I  never  supposed  he  could  speak  to  the 
sister  who  loves  him  so,  went  off  and  told  Jack  that 
all  must  end  between  us  on  the  spot.  Then  he  came 
home  again  and  told  my  father  and  mother,  and— 
and-" 

"  Take  care ;  don't  go  on  till  you  can  control  your 
voice.  Should  n't  you  think  our  soldiers  are  all  to 
be  Daniel  Lamberts,  the  size  they  have  cut  these 
things  ?  And  what  man  's  going  to  stop  to  tie  tapes  ? 
A  good,  honest  pair  of  safety-pins  would  be  better. 
Now  you  are  all  right ;  go  on  again,  little  girl." 

"  They  sided  with  Laurie,  and  it  was  terrible.  No 
one  told  me  anything  but  '  it  must  be '  or '  it  must  not 
be.'  Even  papa  said, '  Believe  me,  you  will  thank  us 
for  this  one  day.'  Now,  I  submitted  when  it  hap- 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  179 

pened,  night  before  last ;  but  since  then  I  have  made 
up  my  mind  to  a  different  course." 

"  One  moment,  my  child.  How  did  the  story  get 
abroad  ?  " 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  Lucy,  artlessly.  "Of 
course  Laurie  did  n't  speak  of  it,  and  of  course  Jack 
would  be  too  proud,  even  if  he  did  not  wish  to  shel 
ter  me.  Oh,  Mrs.  Arrowtip,  if  you  refuse  to  help 
me,  I  don't  know  where  to  turn.  I  must  see  Jack 
once  more  and  say  good-by  to  him.  He  can't  come 
here,  and  I  've  no  place  where  I  could  meet  him,  if  I 
would.  It  is  so  strange  he  has  never  written  me  a 
line  or  sent  me  a  message,  when  he  must  know  how 
I  have  suffered !  Tell  me  the  truth  j  do  you  think 
they— my  people— are  doing  right?" 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  do,  Lucy.  But  don't  enter  upon 
that  part  of  it.  It  is  too  much  of  a  tax  on  your  self- 
restraint." 

"  Poor  Jack  !  The  whole  world  is  his  enemy !  " 
exclaimed  Lucy,  keeping  back  her  tears. 

"  Poor  Jack  !  He  is  his  own  worst  enemy  !  "  said 
Mrs.  Arrowtip,  firmly.  "  Lucy,  this  had  to  come ; 
and  my  sorrow  is  that  you  must  bear  it  by  yourself. 
I  know  what  you  want  me  to  do,  dear,  and  I  '11  try  to 
gratify  you.  When  I  go  home  from  here  now,  I  '11 
send  off  a  messenger  with  a  note  to  Jack  telling 
him  that  you  will  be  with  me  at  five  o'clock,  and 
that  I  rely  on  him  as  a  gentleman  to  come  there 
only  to  say  good-by.  It  may  n't  be  wise,  but  I  '11 
risk  it." 

"  Oh,  how  dear  you  are,  Mrs.  Arrowtip  !  "  exclaimed 
the  child,  fervently,  a  gleam  of  the  old-time  joy  com- 


180  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUKY 

ing  into  her  eyes.  "  I  believe  this  will  almost  crush 
him,  coming  just  when  he  had  made  a  new  beginning 
of  his  life.  But  poor  Jack  never  has  other  people's 
luck.  Even  this  new  business  has  not  proved  exactly 
what  he  hoped.  There  has  been  something— I  don't 
know  what — that  has  gone  against  him.  Once  or 
twice  he  did  not  come  here  when  he  had  promised  to, 
and  when  I  saw  him  again  he  did  not  seem  quite— 
quite — himself.  I  've  half  suspected,  once  or  twice, 
that  his  friend  Mr.  Adamson  has  not  kept  his 
pledges  to  him." 

"  Put  that  out  of  your  mind  once  and  for  all,  my 
dear,"  said  Mrs.  Arrowtip,  "  for  I  have  been  seeing 
Mr.  Adamson  pretty  steadily.  We  have  many  points 
of  common  interest,  and  I  begin  to  know  him  very 
well.  I  think  the  best  thing  about  Jack  is  the  way 
he  has  kept  Adamson's  friendship.  Adamson  has 
been  literally  a  rock  for  him  to  lean  upon." 

"  Then  why  did  Mr.  Adamson  behave  so  oddly 
about  giving  me  up  ? "  exclaimed  Lucy,  vigorously. 
"After  dining  here  that  night  long  ago,  he  just  left 
cards  at  the  door,  and  never  came  again.  If  he  had 
been  Jack's  friend  he  would  have  wanted  to  see  more 
of  us.  You  can't  think  how  it  has  hurt  my  feelings ; 
it  seemed  almost  a  rebuke  to  me  for  my  forwardness 
in  letting  him  know  so  much,  on  a  first  acquaintance. 
But  it  was  because  there  seemed  so  much  in  him  for 
me  to  trust.  Then,  too,  I  had  found  an  old  letter 
that  appeared  to  link  us  together,  and— and— oh !  I 
was  dreadfully  disappointed  in  Mr.  Adamson  !  " 

"  Keep  to  your  first  intuitions,  my  dear,  and  they 
will  guide  you  right.  For  my  part,  I  can't  imagine 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  181 

any  one  more   to  be  trusted  than  he.      But  surely 
you  Ve  met  him  since  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes !  in  an  unsatisfactory  sort  of  fashion. 
Once  he  took  me  in  to  dinner  at  the  Langleys',  and 
talked  almost  entirely  to  the  girl  on  his  other  side. 
I  may  as  well  tell  you  the  truth.  I  was  not  only 
puzzled,  but  piqued.  I  wanted  him  to  like  me  for 
myself,  as  well  as  because  Jack  had  chosen  me.  I 
even  went  out  of  my  way  a  little  to  try  to  get  him 
to  do  so.  But  he  would  n't,"  she  added  in  a 
melancholy  tone. 

"  Don't  waste  yourself  in  any  further  speculations, 
my  child,"  said  Mrs.  Arrowtip,  gravely.  "  As  matters 
stand,  I  can  only  thank  Heaven  that  circumstances, 
even  before  your  brother's  manly  action,  have  kept 
you  and  Jack  Warriner  almost  continually  apart." 

"  You  too,  Mrs.  Arrowtip  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  too,  little  Lucy.  But  let  us  talk  no  more 
of  this.  Come  to  me  this  afternoon  at  five,  and  I  will 
be  with  you  while  he  says  farewell.  Under  those 
conditions  only  I  consent.  Now,  dear,  slip  out  and 
run  up  to  your  room.  Your  eloquent  face  is  be 
ginning  to  show  too  plainly  what  we  are  talking 
about.  If  I  could  only  solve  the  mystery  of  how 
Laurie's  talk  with  Jack  at  the  club  had  got 
abroad—" 

"  Laurie  believed  no  one  would  know  of  it  except 
ourselves,"  said  the  girl,  piteously.  "  And  surely  my 
parents  never  would — why,  mama  can't  have  any 
idea  that  the  affair  has  been  talked  about !  " 

"  No,  no ;  there  is  another  reason— pray  Heaven  it 
may  n't  be  what  I  fear :  that  Jack  himself  betrayed 


182  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

their  secret,  in  his  cups,"  her  collocutor  thought, 
though  she  said  nothing. 

Prompt  as  she  was  kind,  Mrs.  Arrowtip  sat  down 
before  eating  lunch  and  penned  a  note  to  the  scape 
grace. 

A  little  later  an  envelop  was  put  into  her  hands, 
containing  Jack  Warriner's  card,  across  which  was 
penciled,  in  wavering  characters :  "I  ought  not,  but 
I  will  come." 

At  five,  Lucy,  pale,  a  little  frightened,  but  resolute, 
arrived  in  the  drawing-room  of  Mrs.  Arrowtip's  tiny 
dwelling,  where  many  a  time  of  late  Rex  Adamson 
had  sat,  unburdening  himself  to  its  owner  of 
thoughts  and  feelings  of  which  he  could  never  before 
have  deemed  it  possible  to  speak.  Whether  or  not 
Mrs.  Arrowtip  suspected  his  state  of  mind  toward 
Lucy,  and  the  real  reason  for  his  keeping  away 
from  the  Hopes'  home,  she  was  not  yet  assured 
of  it. 

While  sitting  there  waiting  for  Lucy  she  could 
hardly  restrain  a  whimsical  burst  of  rebellion 
against  fate  for  failing  to  decree  that  Lucy  and  Rex 
should  have  met  before  Jack  had  claimed  the  homage 
of  the  girl's  imagination. 

Hereafter,  with  Adamson's  admiration  for  Lucy 
held  forcibly  in  check  and  Lucy's  heroic  notions  of 
remaining  true  to  the  memory  of  her  first  love,  the 
whole  thing  would  be  warped  and  might  never  be 
straightened  out.  How  tiresome  lovers  are !  Mrs. 
Arrowtip  did  like  Rex  Adamson.  He  was  so  all- 
deserving  of  a  good  wife.  Lucy  was  of  the  kind  to 
love  a  man  for  himself,  without  reference  to  fortune, 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  183 

and  how  hard  this  was  going  to  be  for  Rex  to  find 
elsewhere ! 

But  concerning  the  depth  and  permanency  of 
Lucy's  love  for  Jack  Mrs.  Arrowtip  was  beginning  to 
feel  uncomfortable.  She  was  afraid  the  girl  would 
hold  on  to  the  idea  of  him  till  other  opportunities 
had  drifted  down  the  stream,  till  the  best  years  of 
her  life  were  spent  in  clinging  to  a  false  ideal.  Such 
things  had  been— might  be.  She  recalled  what  the 
girl  had  said  about  consoling  the  little  housemaid. 

What  was  that  saying  of  the  dear  old  autocrat? 
"A  real  human  heart  with  divine  love  in  it  beats  with 
the  same  glow  under  all  the  patterns  of  all  earth's 
thousand  tribes."  A  tear  came  into  her  eyes.  She, 
too,  had  felt  that  "  divine  love,"  and  lost  it  many 
years  before.  She  must  curb  her  clever  tongue,  and 
be  gentle  with  Lucy. 

"  My  dear  girl,"  she  said,  rising  to  kiss  her  guest, 
"  he  will  be  here ;  but  remember,  I  can  give  you  no 
more  help  with  him  than  this.  I  think  it  is,  before 
all,  your  duty  to  let  him  go,  and  I  believe  you  will 
not  fail.  No,  don't  answer  me.  Only  believe  that  I 
love  you  and  would  spare  you  if  I  could." 

Not  feeling  in  the  mood  for  speech,  they  sat  down 
in  silence,  one  on  either  side  of  a  miniature  table 
draped  in  convent  lace,  on  which  a  silver  kettle 
bubbled  cheerily.  To  make  time  fly,  Mrs.  Arrowtip 
busied  herself  with  her  tea-making,  urging  upon 
Lucy  a  cup,  which  was  at  once  put  down  with  its 
contents  untasted.  Moments  that  seemed  hours 
passed  before  a  sharp  ring  was  heard,  and  then  Lucy 
sprang  upon  her  feet  with  an  electric  thrill. 


184  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

"  Courage,  Lucy,"  she  heard  in  her  friend's  clear, 
softly  modulated  tones. 

But  at  the  man's  step  in  the  little  hall  Lucy 
started  in  dismay,  exclaiming :  "  That 's  not  he  !  Oh, 
I  must  go  out !  I  can't  see  any  one  but  Jack !  " 

Before  she  could  cross  the  threshold  to  retreat 
through  the  back  room  the  visitor  came  in.  It  was 
none  other  than  Rex  Adamson. 

He  looked  sad  and  stern.  His  face  wore  an  ex 
pression  neither  woman  could  fathom.  It  was  almost 
that  of  shame. 

Bowing  to  Mrs.  Arrowtip,  he  went  over  at  once  to 
arrest  Lucy,  who  stood  half  withdrawn  in  the  shadow 
of  the  portiere  through  which  she  had  meant  to 
vanish. 

"  Don't  go,  please.  I  have  a  message  for  you," 
he  said  in  the  low,  concentrated  tone  that  "  holds 
passion  in  a  leash."  "  And  I  don't  think  I  ever  had 
one  that  cost  me  such  pain  to  give." 

"  He  is  ill  ? "  she  cried,  her  heart  beating  with  dull 
foreboding. 

"  No ;  not  ill,  only— not  fit  to  be  here.  Indeed,  I 
believe  he  meant  and  desired  to  keep  his  promise  to 
come  to  you,  but— it  is  far  better  that  he  failed.  He 
asked  me  if  he  should,  and  I  told  him  it  was  better 
not." 

"  But  I  don't  understand,"  she  answered,  in  pained 
bewilderment.  "It  must  be  something— oh,  Mrs. 
Arrowtip,  he  won't  speak;  you  must  tell  me  what 
this  means !  " 

"It  means  that  the  man  you  have  thought  you 
love  was  never  worthy  of  you,  dear,"  said  her  friend, 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  185 

coming  behind  her  and  putting  an  arm  round  her 
shoulders,  "  and  that  Mr.  Adamson  naturally  hesi 
tates  to  speak  words  that  will  tell  you  the  necessary 
truth.  Jack,  kinsman  of  mine  though  he  be,  Lucy, 
is  a  confirmed  drunkard  and  debauche.  How  could 
those  who  love  you  trust  you  in  such  hands?  No 
matter  what  he  swears  to  you,  he  will  never  have 
strength  to  keep  it." 

"  Oh,  don't !  "  cried  Lucy,  bursting  into  tears.  "  I 
can't  listen !  It  is  too  dreadful— too  treacherous  to 
him !  How  can  I  believe  you  when  I  have  never 
seen  him  other  than  as  I  know  him  ?  Is  n't  it  enough 
we  should  be  parted,  without  having  my  life  dark 
ened  by  such  cruel  slanders  against  him?  And 
from  you,  Mr.  Adamson — who  call  yourself  his 
friend ! " 

Eex  Adamson's  face  grew  very  pale. 

"  You  leave  me  no  alternative,"  he  said,  taking  out 
of  his  pocket  a  crumpled  scrap  of  paper,  "  but  to  give 
you  this,  which  I  had  hoped  you  might  be  spared." 

Lucy  tried  to  read  through  her  tears  the  rough 
scrawl  in  Jack's  familiar  handwriting,  that  yet  did 
not  seem  his  own.  When  she  could  decipher  them, 
these  lines  seemed  to  blaze  upon  her  sight : 

It  is  all  true  what  they  say  of  me.  I  have  gone  under  again 
—this  time  degrading  you.  After  Laurie  left  me,  I  drank 
myself  mad  and  told  every  one  our  secret.  Don't  waste  your 
sympathy.  I  am  beyond  the  pale.  But  I  don't  bear  Laurie 
any  grudge— if  it  had  been  my  sister  I  'd  have  done  the  same. 
But  for  the  man  who  will  give  you  this,  I  believe  I  'd  shoot 
myself  now,  and  end  it.  I  shall  never  want  to  meet  your 
eyes  again.  Forget  me,  and,  when  you  can,  forgive. 


186  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

When  Lucy  looked  up  from  her  long  and  bitter 
sobbing  she  was  alone.  Presently  Mrs.  Arrowtip 
came  back  and  soothed  and  kissed  her ;  but  neither 
of  them  spoke  of  the  contents  of  the  note  Lucy  had 
cast  into  the  fire. 


AURIE!      Laurie,  I  say!      Wake  up, 
dear !  " 

There  was  a  gasp,  a  stir,  a  flounder 
ing  under  a  warm  cover,  and  then  a 
pair  of  blue  eyes  opened  in  a  sunburnt 
face  and  gazed  wildly  at  the  speaker.  Laurence  Hope 
became  aware  that  his  mother,  in  dressing-gown  and 
slippers,  was  standing  beside  his  bed. 

A  little  while  before  she,  too,  had  been  lying  com 
fortably  enwrapped,  for  the  time  oblivious  of  a  fear 
that  had  scarcely  left  her  since  the  spring  set  in. 
Into  her  slumbers  had  come  the  strident  summons  of 
their  front  door-bell ;  again  it  sounded,  and  she  only 
of  the  household  was  broad  awake. 

A  glance  down  from  her  window  into  the  street  re 
vealed  a  diminutive  telegraph-boy,  in  a  blaze  of  elec 
tric  light,  holding  the  usual  yellow  envelop.  While 
instinctively  reckoning  up  the  quarters  whence  bad 
news  might  come,  she  hurriedly  made  ready  to  go 
down-stairs  and  take  it  in. 

Under  the  hall  lantern  the  mother  read  an  order  to 
her  son  to  "  report  at  the  armory  at  once,"  signed  by 
the  captain  of  the  troop  of  the  National  Guard  in 
which  Laurie  had  been  proud  to  inscribe  himself  a 
private. 

187 


188  THE  CIECLE  OP  A  CENTURY 

Since  before  midnight  these  telegrams  of  command 
had  been  speeding  everywhere  in  the  twin  cities 
linked  by  the  Brooklyn  Bridge,  in  pursuit  of  hus 
bands,  brothers,  sons.  Clubs,  theaters,  ball-rooms, 
homes,  hotels,  and  lodging-houses  were  invaded  by 
the  fateful  missives.  What  though  the  summons 
meant  no  more  than  a  test  of  the  readiness  of  volun 
teers?  It  was  the  first  actual  touch  New  York  had 
of  the  rude  red  hand  of  war ! 

"  My  tired  boy !  "  thought  the  mother.  "  He  has 
been  working  so  hard  at  the  office  all  to-day;  I 
thought  his  foot  lagged  as  he  went  up  to  bed.  If  it 
could  only  have  been  to-morrow !  " 

"  Laurie,  it  's  a  telegram  from  your  captain,"  she 
said  in  a  trembling  voice.  "  They  want  you  at  the 
armory  at  once." 

"  Yes,  mother.    Ten  minutes,  and  I  '11  be  down." 

One  grievous,  long-drawn  yawn,  a  last  tribute  to 
the  sweet  slumber  from  which  he  had  been  so  rudely 
torn,  and  the  young  man  was  alert  and  eager  to  be 
off.  Of  small  account  seemed  to  him  the  comforts 
of  his  home,  the  bed  soon  to  be  exchanged  for  a  truss 
of  straw  on  the  wet  ground  of  Hempstead  Plains, 
the  surroundings  of  civilized  existence  to  be  cast 
away  for  life  in  a  tent! 

He  was  conscious  only  of  an  intense  desire  to  go, 
that  made  him  hardly  patient  with  the  yearning 
solicitude  and  repressed  gloom  of  the  family  now 
aroused  and  in  action  to  speed  him  on  his  way. 

Although  for  days  past  every  necessary  preparation 
for  a  call  to  camp  had  been  made,  though  a  valise 
in  waiting  held  all  and  more  than  the  minor  equip- 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  189 

merits  for  field  service  a  pack  of  saddle-bags  could 
possibly  be  made  to  contain,  there  were  still  services 
for  loving  hands  to  render  the  soldier  they  were  send 
ing  to  the  front.  Sandwiches  were  cut ;  a  flask  was 
filled  with  the  best  brandy  in  the  house.  Lucy,  in  her 
pink  peignoir  with  the  floating  laces,  a  coil  of  red- 
brown  hair  loosened  and  tumbling  down  her  back, 
bent  a  grave  face  over  the  woolen  socks  she  had 
been  marking  with  Laurie's  number  in  the  troop. 
His  father,  half  dressed,  must  needs  see  if  the  boy 
had  in  hand  enough  money  for  immediate  use.  The 
servants,  in  scant  attire,  fell  over  each  other  in  their 
zeal  to  perform  some  ministration  for  the  new  son  of 
Mars.  And  amid  all  this  bustle,  instituted  to  work 
off  the  family  depression  of  spirits,  the  trooper  de 
scended  among  them,  his  lithe  figure  clad  in  fatigue- 
jacket  and  trousers  of  dark  blue,  a  wisp  of  yellow 
stuff  knotted  around  his  bare  throat,  booted  and 
spurred,  gauntlets  in  hand,  and  in  his  eyes  a  light 
that  rebuked  the  dull  aching  of  their  hearts. 

"  What,  mother  and  Lucy  I  Afraid,  are  you  ? "  he 
cried,  "and  not  a  Dago  nearer  than  the  Caribbean 
Sea.  That 's  a  fine  way  to  send  me  off,  is  n't  it  ?  And 
no  doubt  I  '11  be  sneaking  home  to-morrow,  instead 
of  going  into  camp.  Hang  these  eternal  delays  of 
the  powers  that  be !  All  I  mind  is  this  getting  you 
good  people  out  of  bed  at  this  unearthly  hour." 

He  kissed  them  both,  shook  hands  with  his  father, 
and  sped  away  light-footed,  to  be  carried  up-town  on 
a  neighboring  elevated  railway.  When  the  front 
door  closed  upon  her  son,  Mrs.  Hope  vanished,  her 
husband  following  to  give  her  such  reassurance  as  he 


190  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

might.  Lucy,  left  alone,  ran  to  a  front  window, 
thinking  to  catch  a  last  glimpse  of  Laurie,  and 
hoping  he  might  look  up. 

She  was  just  in  time  to  see  her  brother  met  upon 
the  steps  by  a  tall  man  in  evening  clothes,  who, 
grasping  him  by  the  hand,  hurried  off  in  his  com 
pany,  their  steps  ringing  through  the  quiet  of  the 
street. 

"Which  of  his  fellow-troopers  can  it  be  who  lives 
near  enough  to  call  for  Laurie?"  she  wondered. 
"That  back  does  n't  look  like  Dick  Masters,  but  I 
suppose  it  's  he,  rushing  up  to  dress  at  the  armory. 
Dearest  Laurie !  How  his  friends  love  him !  and  who 
could  help  it  ?  I  7m  glad  he  's  got  Masters,  to  make 
it  jollier  for  him.  Why — it  7s  not  Masters — it 's — " 

She  drew  back  quickly.  Just  as  the  two  retreating 
figures  came  under  the  glare  of  an  arc-light  they 
had  turned  and  were  looking  back  at  the  house. 
Laurie,  seeing  his  sister,  waved  his  cap  with  an  old, 
familiar  gesture.  And  Laurie's  tall  comrade,  who  had 
also  caught  a  fleeting  glimpse  of  the  pink  vision  at  the 
window,  stood  bareheaded  in  full  view.  It  was  Rex 
Adamson. 

Lucy  had  never  seen  him  since  the  day  of  their 
poignant  interview  in  Mrs.  Arrowtip's  little  drawing- 
room.  At  that  time  she  had  felt,  indeed,  that  she 
never  wanted  to  see  him  again.  A  great  wave  of 
shame  and  grief  and  misery  had  swept  over  her 
head,  and  she  had  emerged  from  it  sore  at  heart,  be 
lieving  that  happiness  was  not  for  her  again.  Her 
pride  had  bled  that  Rex,  in  whom  she  had  confided 
her  innocent  trust  in  her  unworthy  lover,  should  have 


IN  NEW  YOEK  OF  TO-DAY  191 

been  the  one  to  witness  her  downfall  of  faith  and 
hope. 

Later  she  had  realized  the  infinite  gentleness  and 
chivalry  of  his  attitude,  but  not  at  first.  She  had 
allowed  him  to  see  the  revulsion  of  her  feelings ;  had 
thrust  away  from  her  by  a  gesture  and  a  look  his 
eager  proffer  of  service.  And  she  had  seen  him 
gather  himself  together  and  retreat  with  dignity 
from  the  attempt  to  be  anything  further  in  her  life. 
As  far  as  she  knew,  he  had  given  her  up  once  and 
for  all. 

With  her  father's  and  mother's  consent,  she  had 
written  a  final  letter  to  Jack  Warriner,  definitely 
sundering  the  bond  that  had  been  between  them. 
This  missive,  carried  to  her  father  in  his  library  and 
laid  before  him  silently,  had  been  read  by  Mr.  Hope 
with  the  expectation  of  finding  much  to  criticize, 
to  restrain,  and  to  advise  to  have  rewritten.  But 
after  submitting  it  to  his  wife,  who  perused  the  poor 
little  heartfelt  scrawl  with  frank  tears  in  her  eyes, 
he  had  handed  it  gravely  back  to  his  daughter,  and 
bade  her  send  it  as  it  was. 

Everybody  at  home  had  been  dearer  than  ever  to 
her  since  then,  thought  Lucy.  They  had  forgiven 
her  concealment  of  the  affair  with  Jack,  had  sympa 
thized  in  deeds,  not  words,  with  her  plucky  fight  to 
keep  up,  and  seemed  now  to  be  holding  her  more 
closely  to  their  hearts  than  ever.  Even  Laurie,  from 
whom  in  the  course  of  their  lifelong  intimacy  she  had 
rarely  had  a  melting  word,  had  spoken  with  her 
briefly,  but  feelingly,  concerning  her  hapless  love- 
venture  and  his  own  share  in  bringing  it  to  wreck. 


192  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

Dear  old  Laurie !  He  had  acted  according  to  his 
best  sense  of  protection  of  his  only  sister.  She  could 
see  that  in  every  line  of  his  face,  when  he  broached 
the  painful  subject.  For  his  intervention  had  cost 
Laurie  dear.  That  Jack  was  his  Bessie's  brother  had 
but  made  his  position  more  distressing. 

Since  the  event,  Bessie  had  sent  for  him  and  told 
him  that,  in  view  of  the  new  rupture  between  the 
families,  and  the  exposure  of  their  affairs  to  the  gos 
sips  of  society,  her  mother  had  ordered  her  to  give 
him  up.  So  Laurie,  too,  was  cut  adrift  from  his  first 
love.  He  had  confided  this  fact  to  no  one  save  his 
sister.  If  his  mother  suspected  it,  she  did  not  know. 
Only  Lucy  knew  how  gladly  her  brother  had  answered 
the  call  to  march  away  to  war. 

Amid  these  troubles  of  the  Hopes  and  Warriners, 
Rex  Adamson  had  not  been  forgotten  by  either 
household.  Mrs.  Warriner,  with  whom  he  had  a 
painful  interview,  had  thanked  him  fervently  for 
standing  by  her  unfortunate  son  in  the  scandal 
brought  upon  them  by  Jack's  most  recent  fall  from 
grace. 

As  a  first  consequence  Jack  had  withdrawn  from 
his  club,  where  his  resignation  had  been  accepted 
without  a  protesting  voice.  A  few  days  later  the 
great  business  venture,  in  which  he  had  embarked 
with  all  sails  set  and  colors  flying,  came  to  an  end 
in  a  fierce  quarrel  between  the  partners,  Jack's  senior 
refusing  utterly  to  put  up  with  him,  and  the  firm  dis 
solving  by  mutual  consent. 

Jack,  stalking  out  of  the  office  in  a  blank  fury 
with  his  associate,  had  yet  controlled  himself  suffi- 


IN  NEW  YOEK  OF  TO-DAY  193 

ciently  to  arrange  for  the  return  to  Rex  Adamson  of 
funds  embarked  by  him  in  their  enterprise.  And 
after  that  no  one  knew  where  to  find  our  poor  sinner. 
Another  star  had  vanished  in  the  black  abyss. 

Laurie  Hope  had  meanwhile  grown  into  closer  re 
lations  of  friendship  with  Adamson.  Every  day  he 
had  had  something  new  to  report  to  the  home  people 
concerning  the  quick  progress  of  their  intercourse. 
Mrs.  Hope,  who  a  little  while  before  would  have 
welcomed  this  alliance  with  delight,  now,  broken  in 
spirits  by  Lucy's  misadventure,  remained  passive 
when  her  boy  quoted  Rex.  She  was  hardly  even 
moved  to  comment  when  Laurie,  coming  in  one  even 
ing,  announced  that  Adamson  had  been  taken  into 
his  company  of  the  troop,  the  fellows  rejoicing  to 
secure  such  a  stalwart  new  recruit.  But  Lucy's  eyes 
had  flashed  quick  approval. 

"  That  is  fine  !  "  she  cried,  with  the  old  enthusiastic 
ring  in  her  tones.  "  I  am  glad  you  have  him  for  a 
comrade,  and  I  hope  it  may  be  a  tent-mate." 

That  night,  on  going  to  her  room,  Lucy  took  out 
the  old  letters  of  Eve  Adamson  to  Mrs.  Lucilla 
Hope,  and  read  them  with  new  light.  Was  it  not 
being  answered  through  Rex  and  Laurie,  the  century- 
old  prayer  for  a  continuance  of  friendship  "  betwixt 
mine  and  thine  "  ?  And  she  had  often  read  them 
since. 

This  matter  of  Rex  calling  for  Laurie  at  such  a  late 
hour  of  the  night  afforded  her  subject  for  the  liveliest 
speculation.  It  was  most  likely  that  the  summons 
had  found  him  at  a  certain  supper  given,  in  their 
neighborhood,  by  an  officer  of  the  National  Guard  to 

13 


194  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

some  of  his  fellow-volunteers.  Eex,  knowing  Laurie 
to  be  at  home,  must  have  come  a  little  out  of  his 
way  to  pick  him  up  en  route  for  the  armory.  But 
why,  seeing  the  house  lighted  on  every  floor,  had 
not  he  rung  boldly,  and  asked  for  Laurie,  instead  of 
hovering  outside? 

Ah,  me !  She  would  have  liked  to  give  him,  as 
well  as  Laurie,  a  God-speed.  Her  heart  warmed  at 
the  notion  of  their  setting  off  side  by  side.  Rex,  by 
inheritance  one  of  the  princes  of  the  earth,  wrapped 
in  the  purple,  putting  it  all  away  to  serve  as  a  private 
in  the  ranks !  What  a  dullard  she  had  been  always 
to  treat  him  as  the  friend  of  some  one  else, — Jack's 
first,  then  Laurie's, — never  as  one  deserving  honor 
because  of  his  own  strong  manhood  and  individuality  ! 

The  last  resolution  of  her  mind  before  she  sank 
into  belated  sleep  was  an  ardent  determination  to  do 
Bex  justice  for  the  future.  It  seemed  vain  for  her 
to  dwell  on  it,  but  there  was  no  doubt  he  had  lingered 
a  moment  looking  back  at  her  window  after  Laurie 
had  pressed  ahead.  Little  did  she  know  that,  driven 
like  a  leaf  before  the  blast,  Rex  had  come  there,  not 
in  search  of  Laurie,  but  making  that  fraternal  act  an 
excuse  for  a  last  glance  at  the  house  that  enshrined 
his  ruling  power  before  he  could  answer  his  country's 
call  to  arms. 

HEMPSTEAD  PLAINS  in  May!  A  stretch  of  rolling 
downs  in  the  middle  regions  of  Long  Island,  open  to 
the  full  sweep  of  breezes  from  the  Atlantic.  What 
vernal  promise  in  the  description !  How  could  our 
volunteers  do  better  than  rally  there  for  their  pre- 


IN  NEW  YOEK  OF  TO-DAY  195 

liminary  training  ?  One  pictured,  on  first  hearing  of 
it,  a  canvas  city  of  snow-white  tents  pitched  amid 
spring  blossoms  carpeting  the  hollows,  and  watered 
by  rivulets  coursing  to  the  sea !  A  pleasant  change, 
truly,  for  city-bred  and  city-pent  youths !  So  thought 
most  parents  and  proprietors  of  the  nation's  defenders 
then  hastening  to  their  baptism  of  fire. 

As  a  matter  of  stern  fact,  there  was  no  romance 
about  the  famous  site  selected  by  the  paternal  gov 
ernment  at  Albany  for  breaking  into  military  life  the 
thousands  of  young  clerks,  professional  men,  and 
mechanics  taken  out  of  their  stove-heated  homes 
and  steam-heated  offices  or  factories;  men  who  had 
hung  up  their  overcoats,  rolled  their  umbrellas  and 
shelved  their  rubber  shoes,  and  left  them  all  behind 
at  home  on  the  day  they  went  into  camp ! 

It  began  raining  soon  after  the  place  was  chosen, 
and  continued  to  rain  for  not  quite  forty  days  and 
nights,  but  long  enough  to  cover  the  whole  extent  of 
even  that  gravelly  soil  with  thick  mire,  thoroughly 
to  saturate  the  troops,  their  tents,  and  their  belong 
ings,  and  to  subdue  the  spirit  of  the  most  ardent  pa 
triot  to  the  level  of  grim  endurance.  These  men,  who 
had  stepped  so  gaily  out  of  civil  life,  were  suddenly, 
without  preparation,  subjected  to  the  test  of  sleep 
ing  on  wet  ground,  living  in  wet  clothes,  eating 
food  soggy  with  the  water  it  had  been  cooked 
with,  and  at  first,  through  a  refinement  of  mockery, 
having  no  water  to  wash  in  and  almost  none  to 

O 

drink. 

After  the  camp  had  been  established  these  facts 
were  evident  to  visitors  from  town,  and  there  was 


196  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

despondency  in  many  a  home.  It  was  only  the  men 
themselves  who  made  no  moan. 

A  Long  Island  train  going  away  from  New  York, 
one  morning  when  lightening  clouds  gave  hope  of  a 
day  less  drenching,  carried  a  small  party  of  intending 
visitors  to  Camp  Black,  consisting  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Lucien  Hope,  their  daughter,  and  Euphrosyne  War« 
riner— the  latter  dressed  in  garb  rigidly  simple  and 
suggestive  of  her  calling  as  a  trained  nurse. 

Euphrosyne  had  always  kept  friendship  with  Lucy, 
despite  the  recent  break  between  their  families  on 
Jack's  account.  She  considered  herself  emancipated 
from  ordinary  social  laws,  and  had  touched  Lucy's 
generous  heart  by  her  high-minded  grief  over  the 
affair— coming  in  person  to  lament  it,  when  Mrs. 
Warriner's  other  daughters  obeyed  their  mother's 
stern  fiat  of  withdrawal  from  any  intercourse  with 
the  Hopes. 

Nurse  Warriner's  present  outing  was  in  order  to 
get  a  glimpse  of  life  in  camp,  after  offering  her  ser 
vices  to  the  government.  Lucy  had  an  idea  that  a 
sight  of  his  lost  love's  sister  would  cheer  Laurie, 
who,  however,  since  the  enforced  parting  from  Bes 
sie,  had  given  no  sign  to  any  one  of  his  feeling*  on 
the  subject.  And  then,  Lucy  had  much  in  common 
with  Euphrosyne  just  now.  She  had  lately  been 
visiting  her  at  St.  Jude's,  trying  to  familiarize  her 
self  with  details  of  attendance  on  the  patients.  Her 
secret  longing,  little  suspected  by  her  parents,  was 
to  follow  Euphrosyne's  example  and  volunteer  as  a 
war  nurse. 

Sitting  opposite  them  in  the  car,  the  two  girls  had 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  197 

espied  a  rusty  little  man  in  shabby  clothes,  bent  in 
the  shoulders  and  buried  in  a  newspaper,  which  he 
read  without  looking  up  till  the  train  slowed  at  the 
station  for  Camp  Black.  While  the  Hopes  were  in 
the  act  of  engaging  the  last  unoccupied  vehicle,  a 
mud-bespattered  old  carryall  with  raw-boned  horses 
and  a  decrepit  driver,  they  saw  their  fellow-traveler 
looking  about  the  station  in  an  absent-minded  way, 
apparently  much  at  a  loss  as  to  what  he  was  to  do 
for  a  trap.  Lucy  called  her  near-sighted  father's 
attention  to  the  fact,  and  Mr.  Hope,  with  his  usual 
courtesy,  made  the  stranger  an  offer  ef  the  unused 
seat  in  theirs. 

"  I  'm  obliged  to  you,  sir.  If  it  won't  incommode 
you,  I  'd  be  glad  to  take  it.  I  am  going  to  visit  my 
son,"  he  added  in  an  impersonal  tone;  "and  I  guess 
I  forgot  to  telegraph  ahead." 

As  the  rain  began  to  fall  anew,  Lucy,  in  deference 
to  the  stranger's  age,  insisted  upon  placing  him  in  her 
own  seat  next  Euphrosyne,  and  sprang  lightly  up  to 
the  more  exposed  perch  beside  the  driver.  On  the 
way  to  the  camp  her  spirits  rose  with  the  thought  of 
meeting  Laurie ;  her  cheeks  glowed  in  the  moist  air ; 
her  hair,  under  the  same  influence,  broke  into  little 
fantastic  rings  on  her  neck  and  forehead. 

While  the  others  yielded  themselves  more  or  less  to 
the  depressing  nature  of  the  experience,  while  the 
wheels  sank  hub-deep  into  watery  ruts  and  the  horses 
strained  to  perform  their  task,  her  lively  sallies  and 
charming  looks  put  heart  into  every  one.  Even  their 
dry  old  nut  of  an  extra  passenger  relaxed  now  and 
again  into  smiles  that  wrinkled  his  thin  cheeks. 


198  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

After  plowing  ahead  for  a  weary  length  of  time, 
they  came  abreast  of  the  camp  of  an  infantry  regi 
ment  of  greenhorns  from  the  interior  of  the  State. 
Uniforms  and  tents  having  proved  insufficient  for 
their  numbers,  many  of  these  men,  still  wearing  their 
ordinary  citizens'  clothes,  were  seen  either  miserably 
congregated  under  the  shelter  of  rubber  blankets,  or 
else  exposed  to  the  rain  without  so  much  as  an  over 
coat  or  poncho.  A  sentry  in  check  trousers,  a  water 
logged  jersey  and  a  derby  hat,  walked  on  his  beat 
before  the  dismal  throng. 

"  Oh,  do  go  on,  driver !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hope, 
turning  away  her  eyes.  "  I  never  dreamed  of  any 
thing  like  this." 

At  every  step  forward  the  sad  impression  was 
deepened,  with  fresh  revelations  of  inadequacy  in 
provision  of  the  most  ordinary  comforts  for  the  vol 
unteers.  No  outcast  dog  could  have  fared  more  piti 
fully  than  these  ill-equipped  regiments,  hurried  on 
from  their  native  towns  or  country-sides  amid  the 
cheers  of  sympathetic  crowds  gathered  at  every  point 
along  their  route. 

Under  a  thin  veil  of  gray  drizzle,  all  the  encamp 
ments  wore  their  most  melancholy  aspect ;  but  Mrs. 
Hope  could  not  but  feel  that  her  own  boy's  com 
rades,  representing  the  wealthy  and  well-bred  fami 
lies  of  their  community,  and  possessed  of  abundant 
private  means,  must  be  found  in  better  plight. 

When,  finally/  the  driver  reined  in  where  he  had 
been  told  to  stop,  in  her  disappointment  she  gave  a 
little  cry  of  dismay. 

"  Oh,   Lucien !  "    she   exclaimed  to  her  husband, 


IN^NEW  YOKK  OF  TO-DAY  199 

woefully.  "It  can't  be  here!  Surely  it  is  n't 
here !  " 

"  I  'm  afraid,  ma'am,  you  '11  find  it  is,"  said  the 
rusty  little  man,  turning  around  and  speaking  to  her 
for  the  first  time.  u  I  've  been  before  when  ;t  was 
worse  than  this.  But  the  boys  will  cheer  ye  up  !  " 

They  had  halted  at  one  end  of  a  row  of  large  coni 
cal  tents  so  sodden  with  moisture  as  to  resemble 
structures  of  wet  paper.  In  and  out  of  these  lurked  a 
few  stray  figures,  but  the  chief  animation  visible  was 
over  at  the  far  end  of  the  line,  where  a  curl  of  blue 
smoke  announced  the  quarters  of  the  cook. 

The  inclosure  behind  which  that  potentate  stood, 
amid  his  pots  and  kettles  bubbling  on  iron  grills 
above  pits  full  of  burning  logs,  a  mere  counter  of 
rough  boards,  was  the  only  mess-table  this  crack  or 
ganization  could  boast  of.  Thitherward  the  visitors 
could  now  see  trooping  a  procession  of  animated 
scarecrows — phantoms  in  blue  overcoats,  with  collars 
raised  and  tails  flapping  around  booted  legs,  their 
campaign  hats  with  the  brims  turned  down  to  shed 
the  rain,  carrying  each  a  tin  cup  and  plate  and  spoon 
to  receive  his  rations.  It  was  hard  to  detect  in  them 
the  flower  of  New  York's  fashion,  the  habitues  of 
clubs  and  opera-boxes,  the  leaders  of  cotillions,  and 
former  targets  for  newspaper  squibs  calling  them 
effeminate  and  brainless  fops  ! 

At  a  little  distance  off,  horses  in  canvas  blankets 
were  picketed  to  a  rope,  tails  to  the  storm,  and  turn 
ing  their  heads  from  side  to  side  in  a  vain  search  for 
an  avenue  of  escape  from  the  downpour  of  the  skies. 
Shelter  the  poor  beasts  had  none  A  long  pile  of 


200  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

saturated  straw  was  their  bedding,  and  a  kind  word 
and  pat  from  their  masters  at  feeding-  and  watering- 
time  the  only  consolation  of  their  days  and  nights. 
If  ever  the  outlines  of  animals  grouped  together  con 
veyed  a  meaning,  theirs  was  a  protest  against  the 
taking  up  of  American  arms  for  Cuba. 

Up  and  down  the  length  of  his  beat  before  the 
tents  paced  a  sentry  in  draggled  blue  uniform,  his 
musket  trailing,  his  aspect  as  forlorn  as  that  of  any 
tramp  that  ever  asked  for  alms.  When  the  carryall 
had  come  to  a  full  stop,  and  he  approached  them  to 
challenge  their  business  at  the  camp,  Lucy  innocently 
cried  aloud: 

"  Why,  Mr.  Percival !  " 

She  had  recognized  in  him  a  young  man  of  her 
acquaintance,  a  whilom  frequenter  of  gay  society, 
whom  she  had  last  seen  coming  toward  her  at  a  ball, 
carrying  a  favor  of  ribbon  and  tinsel,  and  asking  her 
to  dance. 

The  sentry  saluted,  but  did  not  relax  official  sever 
ity.  He  called  up  the  corporal  of  the  guard,  another 
old  friend  of  the  Hope  family,  who,  after  stolidly  un 
dertaking  to  summon  Laurie  to  his  parents,  inquired 
of  the  stranger  on  the  middle  seat  whom  he  would 
like  to  see. 

"  Private  Adamson.  Tell  him  his  father,  please," 
was  the  brief  reply. 

"  Mr.  Adamson,  I  beg  your  pardon ! "  said  Mr. 
Hope,  astonished,  like  the  rest.  "  But  for  my  poor 
sight  I  should  have  identified  you  before.  Although 
we  have  never  had  a  personal  acquaintance,  I  know 
you,  of  course,  as  everybody  else  does.  My  name  is 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  201 

Hope,  and  as  our  sons  are  friends  and  tent-mates,  I 
am  doubly  glad  we  had  this  opportunity  to  bring  you 
over." 

"  Pleased  to  meet  you,  sir,"  answered  the  magnate, 
graciously ;  "  and  I  take  it  very  kindly  of  your  young 
lady  to  have  given  me  up  her  seat.  Bad  business, 
this  rain,  for  our  men  in  camp." 

While  the  elders  talked,  Mr.  Percival,  just  then  re 
turned  after  relief  from  duty,  devoted  himself  to  the 
general  enlightenment  of  the  girls.  His  tongue,  to 
avenge  itself  for  previously  enforced  restraint,  now 
wagged  industriously. 

"So  that  's  Rex  Adamson's  father?"  he  asked, 
lowering  his  tone.  "  I  could  tell  him  that  his  son  is 
over  behind  there  digging  a  trench  to  bury  the  gar 
bage  from  the  kitchen ;  but  I  don't  know  how  he 
would  take  it.  We  like  our  digging-bees  better  than 
sitting  in  a  wet  tent  'polishing  brasses  and  cleaning 
boots  on  such  a  fine  spring  day  as  this.  I  can't  ask 
you  ladies  to  get  out,  since  there  7s  not  a  spot  to  be 
discovered  as  dry  as  the  shelter  of  your  carriage. 
You  '11  find  Laurie  fit  as  a  fiddle  and  jolly  as  a  sand 
boy,  Miss  Hope.  He  and  Rex  are  in  my  tent— that 
one  next  the  last  in  the  row ;  and  if  we  do  scrap  some 
times  when  the  ten  of  us  have  to  fit  in  it  like  wheel- 
spokes,  of  a  night,  we  have  lots  of  fun." 

"That— that  dingy,  dripping  rag?  Laurie— you 
aD— sleep  in  there  ?  "  exclaimed  Lucy,  horrified. 

"  Indeed  we  do ;  and  if  we  only  had  a  board  floor 
we  'd  be  proud  as  Punch.  Here  comes  Laurie  to 
tell  you  all  about  it.  They  've  caught  the  lad  in  the 
act  of  loading  his  plate  with  pork  and  beans,  and 


202  THE  CIRCLE  OP  A  CENTURY 

he  's  bringing  it  along.  If  you  '11  excuse  me,  Miss 
Hope,  I  '11  run  to  get  my  own  grub,  and  join  you 
again  presently.  We  can't  afford  to  stand  on  cere 
mony  here,  where  the  food  fires  are  the  only  ones  that 
burn." 

He  ran  off  laughing  as  Laurie  joined  them.  Mrs. 
Hope,  giving  one  glance  at  her  drenched  and  mud- 
bespattered  offspring  to  be  sure  she  had  made  no 
mistake,  leaned  out  and  threw  both  arms  around  his 
neck  in  a  fervent  hug.  Regardless  of  the  rain,  she 
and  the  girls  presently  sprang  down  and  surrounded 
Laurie,  who,  in  famous  good  spirits,  poured  upon 
them  a  flood  of  merry  chat.  So  absorbed  were  they 
in  hero-worship  of  their  own,  they  did  not  notice  the 
arrival  to  greet  his  father  of  Rex  Adamson,  whose 
great  frame,  in  his  working-shirt,  and  trousers  tucked 
into  his  boots,  was  literally  caked  in  mud,  his  arms 
bare,  a  spade  still  in  hand,  his  face  ruddy  with  health 
and  satisfaction. 

Mr.  Adamson  took  note  with  a  twinkling  eye  that 
his  son,  in  passing  a  corporal,  had  received  orders 
of  some  kind  from  that  functionary,  who  happened 
to  be  a  petty  clerk  in  a  bank  with  which  Job  had 
much  to  do.  He  was  pleased  with  the  whimsicality 
of  the  incident,  and  determined  to  have  an  eye  on  the 
young  man  on  his  return  to  civil  life. 

Job  was  feeling  passably  cheerful  on  more  than  one 
account.  To  begin  with,  he  had  attended,  before 
taking  the  train,  a  directors'  meeting,  where  the  sum 
total  of  their  fees  of  what  should  have  been  a  ten- 
dollar  gold  piece  for  each  member  of  the  board  had 
fallen,  by  regulation,  to  be  divided  between  himself 


IN  NEW  YOEK  OF  TO-DAY  203 

and  the  only  other  director  present.  The  conscious 
ness  of  these  unexpected  yellow  boys  jingling  in  his 
breeches-pocket  was  a  distinctly  satisfying  one.  And, 
next,  he  had  been  decidedly  struck  by  the  revelation 
of  blooming  young  womanhood  in  Lucy  Hope.  It 
was  long  since  he  had  taken  notice  of  a  pretty  girl's 
back  hair,  or  had  been  dazzled  by  the  apparition  of  a 
rosy  face,  bright  eyes,  and  gleaming  teeth.  He  recog 
nized  Miss  Euphrosyne  Warriner,  although  she  had 
failed  to  identify  him.  He  had  once  seen  a  photo 
graph  of  her  belonging  to  his  wife.  And,  dried-up 
old  specimen  though  he  was,  Job  had  inwardly  con 
fessed  the  attraction  of  beauty  to  be  something  supe 
rior  to  mere  worth.  He  was  very  glad  "  Mis'  Adam- 
son  "  had  n't  succeeded  in  introducing  Etiphrosyne  as 
a  permanent  member  of  his  family  while  there  were 
such  "pretty  ones"  as  Lucy  still  unwed.  Lastly,  Job 
had  a  piece  of  news  for  Rex  that  he  relished,  while 
hesitating  to  communicate  it.  A  telegram  had  come 
to  him  that  morning  from  Washington  with  regard 
to  his  late  offer  of  a  contribution  to  the  emergency 
funds  that  exceeded  in  amount  the  yearly  revenues 
of  many  a  monarch,  and  a  letter  had  reached  him 
from  an  old  friend  high  in  authority  in  government 
saying  that  his  son  Rex  was  about  to  be  appointed 
to  a  post  on  the  staff  of  a  leading  general. 

Job  knew  that  the  appointment  antedated  his  offer 
to  the  government ;  but  he  was  sure,  also,  that  Rex 
would  fight  against  the  appearance  of  buying  his 
promotion,  or  of  being  exalted  so  early  in  the  game, 
before  he  had  done  anything  to  deserve  it.  It  was 
going  to  be  a  deuce  of  a  struggle  to  get  his  son  and 


204  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

heir  out  of  this  mud-hole— a  fact  in  which  Job  felt 
a  sense  of  secret  pride  that  Rex  had  never  given  him 
in  all  his  life  before. 

When  Mrs.  Hope  announced  that,  rain  or  no  rain, 
she  would  not  go  back  to  town  without  seeing  where 
her  Laurie  lived  and  slept,  and  the  party  set  out 
under  umbrellas  to  pick  their  way  over  to  the  tent, 
Lucy  found  herself  bringing  up  the  rear  in  company 
with  Rex,  Euphrosyne  and  Laurie  having  a  little 
talk  apart. 

Lucy  was  struck  by  the  bright  and  hopeful  look 
on  Rex's  face.  Always  heretofore  she  had  fancied 
it  wore  an  expression  of  uncertainty  whether  or  not 
life  were  worth  living.  Now,  though  unseemly  in 
appearance,  dirty  tired,  and  hungry,  he  was  distinctly 
in  tune  with  fate.  He  told  her  cheerily  of  their  mili 
tary  ups  and  downs,  hardships,  amusements,  jokes, 
and  quarrels ;  then  the  by  far  harder  experience  of 
the  men  of  some  of  the  regiments.  He  described 
how  their  tent,  owing  to  a  friend  of  theirs  who  smug 
gled  it  in  to  them,  had  one  day  enjoyed  champagne 
enough  to  wash  in,  but  no  water ;  how,  sickening  of 
pdtt  de  foie  gras,  they  had  fed  it  to  their  horses,  sighed 
for  a  slice  of  hot  roast  beef,  then  adjourned  eagerly 
to  "  salt-horse  "  and  army  bread. 

To  all  of  this  Lucy  listened  fascinated,  fixing  her 
eyes  upon  him  with  enormous  pride  in  her  privilege 
of  walking  beside  this  glorious  muddy  being  the 
length  of  the  camp  before  the  gaze  of  men  who 
crowded  out  to  meet  her  and  tried  to  get  her  away 
from  him ! 

They  found  Mrs.  Hope  peeping  between  the  dog- 


IN  NEW  YOKE  OF  TO-DAY  205 

eared  flaps  of  "  Laurie's  tent "  with  a  truly  woebegone 
expression.  The  floor— the  ground  itself,  covered 
with  wet  straw  under  rubber  blankets— was  littered 
with  novels,  pipes,  cards,  tobacco,  tins  of  biscuit,  fruit, 
and  empty  bottles  of  suggestive  hue  and  shape. 
Every  available  space  was  filled  with  reeking 
garments,  stacked  arms,  and  wet  boots.  Fast  asleep 
upon  his  back,  with  his  feet  to  the  tent-pole,  lay  a 
big  trooper  snoring  off  the  previous  night  on  guard. 
Over  his  massive  bulk  his  comrades  had  scattered 
American  Beauty  roses — the  contents  of  a  box  sent 
to  him  by  a  fair  friend  in  New  York. 

"  Makes  a  decent  corpse,  does  n't  he  ? "  grinned 
Laurie ;  but  seeing  his  mother's  distressed  face,  he 
promptly  carried  her  away  to  visit  the  cook  and  in 
spect  the  commissary  supplies. 

"  Thank  you,  oh,  thank  you !  "  Lucy  was  saying  to 
Rex,  when  it  was  time  to  go.  "  I  shall  always 
remember  this,  and  be  grateful  that  I  was  permitted 
to  have  sight  of  a  little,  though  never  so  little,  of 
your  and  Laurie's  hardships.  And  it  was  so  good 
of  you  to  let  me  taste  your  pork  and  beans !  I  liked 
them— really  I  did ;  and  your  bread  was  excellent. 
I  'm  sure  you  must  get  sick  of  all  that  fancy  stuff 
friends  send  you  in  boxes  from  town.  Oh,  I  wish  I 
were  a  man  !  It  must  be  grand  to  be  banded  together 
here,  enduring  things." 

"  Yet  my  father  wants  me  to  get  out  of  it.  He  has 
just  told  me  that  my  promotion  is  on  the  way.  Now 
judge  for  me,  Miss  Hope.  I  told  you,  a  moment  ago, 
why  I  hesitate  to  take  my  rise.  If  you  were  in  my 
place,  would  you  go  and  be  a  bloated  staff-officer, 


206  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

with  insignia  of  rank  on  your  collar,  and  have  all 
the  world  say  you  owe  it  to  your  father's  money, 
or  would  you  stay  here  and  dig  trenches  for  the 
cook  ? " 

"  Do  you  really  mean  me  to  decide  it  ? "  she  said, 
blushing  a  little. 

"  No ;  that  would  n't  be  fair,  when  I  Ve  already 
made  up  my  mind.  But  I  'd  dearly  like  to  know  if 
you  agree  with  me." 

"  Then— for  the  present— I  'd  stay  here,"  she  said. 

"  That  's  exactly  what  I  mean  to  do.  And  I  '11 
promise  you  I  ;11  look  out  for  Laurie,  and  keep  him 
from  getting  homesick,  and  see  that  he  takes  those 
quinine  capsules  your  mother  gave  him." 

"  Oh,  will  you  ?    How  good  !  " 

"  Yes ;  you  know,  there  is  something  behind  us 
three  that  should  always  keep  us  friends." 

"  '  Betwixt  mine  and  thine '  ?  "  she  asked,  dimpling. 

"  When  you  said  that,  you  were  the  very  image  of 
the  portrait.  There ;  everybody 's  in  the  trap  but  you 
and  my  father— who  has  taken  the  greatest  fancy  to 
you,  by  the  way.  All  those  other  fellows  look  as 
if  they  would  chew  me  up  for  monopolizing  you. 
Good-by,  then.  What  do  you  say  to  our  having  a 
little  sort  of  watchword  between  us,  in  token  of  our 
friendship  ?  l  Betwixt  mine  and  thine/  for  instance  ?  " 

"  That  's  the  very  thing.  Whenever  I  say  that  to 
you  it  '11  mean  that  I  exactly  approve  of  everything 
you  've  done;  and  vice  versa.  Don't  tell  Laurie;  he 
would  laugh.  And  I  do  hope  I  can  get  to  Camp 
Black  some  day  when  it  does  n't  rain." 

Euphrosyne,  with  a  subdued  sigh,  made  place  beside 


IN  NEW  YOKE  OF  TO-DAY  207 

her.  Long  ago  resigned  to  Rex's  indifference,  it  yet 
cost  her  a  pang  to  see  Lucy  with  him.  Lucy  looked 
back  at  him  standing  like  a  monolith  where  they  had 
left  him.  Her  heart  warmed  even  to  the  dried-up 
Job,  who  surprised  them,  on  arrival  at  the  station, 
by  having  the  directors'  car  to  meet  him,  and  invit 
ing  their  party  to  share  its  luxurious  interior,  with 
afternoon  tea  served  by  an  accomplished  steward  as 
they  sped  through  a  dripping  landscape  back  to 
town. 


VI 


NE  Sunday  afternoon  late  in  May, 
Brooklyn  Bridge  and  its  approaches 
at  the  westerly  end  were  crowded  with 
a  solid  mass  of  people  who  had  been 
waiting  there  for  hours. 
In  the  street  leading  across  to  the  Jersey  City 
ferries  some  cabs  and  private  carriages  containing 
well-known  heads  of  the  community  were  lined  up 
along  the  curbstone.  But,  for  the  most  part,  men 
and  women  of  all  conditions  were  mingled  afoot  in 
the  restless,  pushing  throng.  The  great  railroad 
kings  and  financiers,  judges,  lawyers,  surgeons, 
clergymen,  with  their  wives  and  daughters,  were 
hustled  by  East-Siders  who  had  brought  their  families 
to  see  the  show.  As  usual,  the  East-Siders  had  the 
best  of  it,  monopolizing  the  advance-lines  of  the 
sidewalks,  and  stationing  their  women  and  children 
upon  boxes,  carried  for  the  purpose,  exactly  where 
the  meek-spirited  grandees  would  have  to  crane 
their  necks  to  peep  between. 

It  was  long  after  the  time  fixed  by  the  newspapers 
for  the  probable  arrival  of  the  two  troops  who  had 
been  marching  along  country  roads  from  camp,  and 
the  day  was  drawing  to  a  close,  when  a  stir  and  a 
thrill  along  the  lines  of  weary  watchers  announced 


IN  NEW  YOEK  OF  TO-DAY  209 

the  end  of  their  ordeal.  With  the  resulting  forward 
movement  of  the  crowd,  a  lady  with  a  young  girl  in 
attendance  was  pushed  irresistibly  forward  upon 
a  party  of  three  people  standing  against  the  railing 
of  the  footway,  and  overlooking  the  northerly  road 
of  the  bridge,  in  an  excellent  position  to  view  the 
pageant  when  it  should  pass  by. 

There  was  a  protest  from  the  lady,  around  whom 
a  protecting  arm  was  thrown  by  the  girl,  but  in  vain. 
Mrs.  Warriner  and  her  daughter  Bessie  were  forced 
into  closest  quarters  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lucien  Hope 
and  Lucy,  between  whom  and  themselves  no  word 
had  passed  since  the  break  after  Jack's  last  down 
fall. 

To  Mrs.  Warriner  this  unlooked-for  accident  was 
especially  distressing.  How  could  she  allow  her 
whilom  friends  to  suppose  she  had  brought  her  child 
there  for  a  last  sight  of  their  son  Laurie  going  to 
the  war,  because  Bessie  had  pined  and  moped  after 
him  until  her  mother's  heart  could  no  longer  bear 
the  strain  of  it!  And  this,  following  the  way  her 
unhappy  Jack  had  treated  their  Lucy,  and  the  pain 
and  misery  that  had  ensued  for  all  concerned ! 
There  was  not,  alas !  for  the  Warriners  the  excuse 
of  coming  to  see  off  a  son  and  brother. 

Jack,  far  away  somewhere  in  the  South,  had 
simply  written  them  that  he  should  volunteer  in  either 
the  army  or  the  navy,  and  try  to  wipe  out  his  dis 
grace.  It  was  not  for  his  mother  to  look  her  last 
upon  his  bonny  face  beaming  with  patriotic  zeal 
among  his  comrades  as  they  passed ! 

The  poor  lady,  wrapping  herself  in  her  tatters  of 

H 


210  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

pride,  saluted  her  old  friends  coldly,  then  looked 
away  on  the  bridge  without  speaking.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Hope,  in  spite  of  their  good  reasons  for  resentment 
against  Jack's  family,  were  struck  by  the  wan  and 
forlorn  look  upon  Letitia  Warriner's  face.  They 
bowed  in  return,  without  giving  her  evidence  of 
unkind  feeling.  Indeed,  their  hearts  were  too  full 
for  anything  but  thinking  of  their  own  boy. 

Lucy,  at  first  sight  of  Bessie,  had  started,  drawing 
back  as  if  from  a  touch  on  an  old  sore.  She  had  not 
yet  put  Jack  out  of  her  thoughts ;  and  Bessie's  face 
was  his,  softened  into  girlish  tints  and  contours.  But 
in  an  instant  the  pang  had  subsided  and  the  tenderer 
thought  of  Laurie  had  taken  its  place. 

She  had  at  once  divined  what  her  father  and  mo 
ther  had  been  slower  to  penetrate:  it  was,  indeed, 
for  a  glimpse  of  her  banished  lover  that  little  Bessie 
had  broken  bounds  to  come  here.  And  before  either 
girl  knew  how  it  happened,  they  had  kissed,  and  were 
standing,  palpitating,  hand  in  hand,  in  front  of  their 
elders. 

This  was  no  time  for  resentments  and  old  feuds. 
A  common  current  of  feeling  swayed  the  multitude 
when  over  the  big  bridge,  riding  in  a  column  of  fours, 
with  a  rhythmic  clatter  of  hoofs  and  a  jingle  of 
accoutrements,  came  two  troops  of  cavalry,  covered 
with  the  dust  of  their  all-day  march  from  Hempstead, 
every  man  of  whom  had  some  dear  one  belonging  to 
him  in  the  crowd. 

Off  for  Cuba !— as  they  thought  and  hoped !  Fine, 
soldierly  figures,  bronzed  by  the  sun  and  toughened 
by  the  privations  of  their  hard  month  at  Camp 


IN  NEW  YOEK  OF  TO-DAY  211 

Black,  sitting  their  saddles  with  the  ease  of  old 
campaigners,  each  man  carrying  in  pack  and  saddle 
bag  his  worldly  all,  save  for  the  carbine,  sword,  pistol, 
and  canteen  that  hung  about  his  body. 

Their  ride  through  Long  Island  had  been  accom 
plished  under  just  such  conditions  as  the  present,— 
everywhere  shouts  and  cheers  and  cries  to  individuals, 
—and  now  the  greeting  of  the  foremost  troop  was  to  be 
intensified  in  volume  and  in  feeling.  They  were 
passing  their  nearest  and  dearest.  Hardly  a  trooper 
of  the  lot  but  had  turned  his  back  upon  the  comforts, 
even  luxuries,  of  a  home  near  by,  and  was  inter 
rupting  for  the  cause  a  career  well  begun  in  civil 
life,  if  not  sacrificing  a  future  of  brilliant  promise. 

Then  the  cheering  swelled  into  a  roar.  As  familiar 
faces  began  to  come  into  sight,  the  two  girls,  Lucy 
and  Bessie,  leaned  forward,  utterly  oblivious  of  the 
rest  of  the  crowd,  to  search  the  column  with  strain 
ing  eyes.  And  Laurie,  riding  with  Rex,  Percival,  and 
another  man,  was  presently  upon  them  in  almost 
the  suddenness  of  a  surprise. 

Laurie,  by  good  luck,  was  nearest  them  in  the 
column.  As  he  took  in  the  unexpected  juxtaposition 
of  his  father  and  mother  and  Mrs.  Warriner,  stand 
ing  behind  Bessie,  who  held  Lucy's  hand,  his  face 
grew  radiant.  Mrs.  Hope,  accustomed  to  read  her 
boy's  countenance  like  an  open  page,  saw  at  once 
what  he  supposed  to  be  the  case.  And  with  a  quick 
impulse,  her  whole  yearning  heart  in  her  gaze,  she 
gave  him  the  assurance  he  craved  by  throwing  her 
arm  around  his  Bessie's  shoulder. 

"  God  bless  you,  mother !  "  he  said  in  a  low,  happy 


212  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

tone,  riding  so  close  that  he  seemed  almost  within 
reach  of  Bessie's  hand,  where  he  would  have  left  the 
flower  from  his  hat-band.  Next,  in  the  momentary 
pause  of  the  column,  delayed  by  some  obstruction 
farther  forward,  his  eyes  sought  Mrs.  Warriner's. 
She,  too,  was  smiling  approval  through  her  tears. 
In  that  moment  who  could  refuse  a  trooper  any 
thing?  Her  heart  was  melted  to  her  girl,  her  ran 
cor  gone.  Laurie,  glowing  with  triumph,  rode  away 
as  the  column  moved  again. 

Lucy,  absorbed  in  a  brief,  sudden  pantomime  that 
meant  so  much  to  her  brother's  peace  of  mind,  did 
not  at  first  observe  that  the  trooper  next  Laurie  in 
the  line  was  gazing  at  her  as  if  he  could  not  see 
enough.  When  they  had  almost  passed,  she  perceived 
Rex  and  waved  to  him— and  wished  she  had  done 
more. 

And  that  was  all  of  it. 

Another  troop,  in  the  same  column  of  fours,  fol 
lowed  theirs,  and  soon  the  last  rider  had  gone  by. 

Amid  the  tramp  of  hoofs,  the  rattle  of  metal,  the 
wild  cheering  of  the  crowd,  the  cavalry  had  dis 
appeared;  and  in  many  a  woman's  heart  light  was 
succeeded  by  eclipse. 

That  night,  when  they  were  brought  to  a  halt  in 
the  Jersey  City  stock-yards,  preparatory  to  taking 
train  for  the  South  next  morning,  Laurie  was  put  on 
guard  duty,  and  Rex,  who  had  obtained  leave  to  go 
home  for  a  few  hours  to  make  some  last  arrange 
ments,  had  a  little  talk  with  his  friend. 

Laurie,  who  had  neither  envelop  nor  stamp, ^charged 
him  with  conveying  in  safety  to  Miss  Bessie  Warriner 


213 

some  disreputable-looking  loose  pages  of  foolscap, 
procured  from  a  sympathetic  cattle-man,  on  which 
he  had  scribbled  in  pencil  upon  his  knee.  Rex, 
promising  that  this  token  should  be  in  the  youug 
lady's  hands  before  she  slept,  went,  as  he  was,  to 
deliver  it  at  Mrs.  Warriner's  apartment — conscious 
that  a  more  played  out  and  unseemly  looking 
object  than  himself  had  rarely  touched  the  bell 
at  a  lady's  door. 

The  elevator-man  who  had  assisted  his  progress 
into  the  upper  regions  of  the  house  where  Mrs. 
Warriner  abode — a  colored  gentleman  of  exclusive 
tastes,  and  already  very  tired  of  the  prominence 
given  in  polite  circles  to  these  shabby  bluecoats — had 
treated  him  with  scant  civility.  The  heir  of  the 
Adamson  millions,  the  prospective  owner  of  that 
famous  mansion  facing  the  park  to  which  Rex 
would  presently  return  for  a  bath  and  brief  sleep, 
had  had  to  grovel  before  this  haughty  darky  for 
permission  to  be  conveyed  up  to  their  floor  to  in 
quire  whether  the  ladies  were  at  that  late  hour  still 
visible. 

A  like  fate  awaited  him  at  the  hands  of  Mrs. 
Warriner's  trim  little  white-capped  maid,  who 
could  n't  understand  what  such  a  shabby  figure  of  a 
soldier  would  be  doing  there  at  ten  o'clock  at  night. 
She  decided  at  once  upon  a  scolding  for  the  negro 
for  allowing  him  to  come  up;  though  while  she 
was  reiterating  with  testy  emphasis  that  she  could  on 
no  account  disturb  her  young  lady  to  speak  with  him, 
relief  came  in  the  person  of  Euphrosyne  Warriner, 
who  was  at  home  for  a  night  or  two  before  setting 


214  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

off  on  her  service  in  a  military  hospital  on  the  far 
Southern  coast,  and  now  stepped  out  into  the  little 
vestibule.  She  led  Mr.  Adamson  within,  sent  a  sum 
mons  to  Bessie,  then  said  in  a  hesitating  voice : 

"  If  it 's  a  message  from  Laurie  Hope,  I  think  I 
should  tell  you  there 's  some  one  else  here  who  would 
wish  to  hear  it.  Lucy  has  been  spending  the  evening 
with  us,  and  is  in  Bessie's  room  talking  over  their 
exciting  day." 

The  start  Rex  gave  was  confirmation  strong  of  Eu- 
phrosyne's  suspicions  since  their  visit  to  the  camp, 
and  for  one  moment  this  young  woman,  to  whom  it 
had  been  allotted  to  find  her  joy  only  in  others, 
service,  felt  a  throb  of  envy  at  Lucy's  happy  lot. 

It  had  at  no  time  been  Rex's  fortune  or  position 
that  had  attracted  Euphrosyne  to  him.  Long  ago 
she  had  cared  for  him  for  himself,  and  now  the  fulfil 
ment  of  his  stalwart  manhood  had  more  than  justi 
fied  the  promise  of  his  youth.  If  she  had  longed  to 
nurse  the  soldiers,  it  had  been  her  hope  and  prayer 
that,  should  Rex  need  her,  she  might  find  her  way  to 
him.  She  even  felt  glad  to  think  that  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Hope  had  denied  Lucy  the  privilege  of  going  with 
the  Red  Cross. 

But,  swallowing  her  emotions,  she  went  out  of 
the  room,  quickly  returning  with  both  Lucy  and  Bes 
sie,  who  bestowed  on  the  caller  a  welcome  so  warm 
that  his  steady  brain  yielded  to  the  sweet  influence, 
and  he  lingered  talking  for  an  hour.  Long  after 
Lucy's  maid  (who  had  come  for  her  young  lady  in  a 
cab)  had  been  announced,  he  sat  there,  hardly  realizing 
that  Euphrosyne  had  gone  off  to  talk  with  her  mother, 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  215 

and  Bessie  to  read  her  letter  again  and  again,  and  pen 
an  answer  to  its  raptures. 

How  precious  would  ever  be  to  Rex  the  memory  of 
this  unlooked-for  last  talk  with  the  girl  he  loved! 
Though  she  would  never  know  it,  should  he  go  down 
in  battle,  hers  would  be  the  last  image  on  his  mind. 

If  he  was  tempted  to  tell  her  so,  now  when  every 
body's  heart  was  on  lip,  belief  in  her  continuing  in 
terest  in  poor,  wandering,  outlawed  Jack  restrained 
him.  Seeing  her  here  amid  Jack's  family  seemed  to 
make  her  more  theirs  than  his.  He  would  not  open 
her  wound  anew  by  letting  her  know  of  his. 

Yet,  how  he  longed  to  take  with  him  only  one  of 
such  words  as  Bessie  was  pouring  out  in  unstinted 
measure  to  her  Laurie  !  If  it  might  have  been  ! 

Crushing  down  these  thoughts,  he  told  Lucy  of 
something  concerning  which  it  had  been  his  inten 
tion  to  write  to  her  from  a  distance.  A  little  time 
before,  in  looking  over  an  old  family  Bible  of  his  fa 
ther's  line,  he  had  come  upon  a  half-sheet  of  paper 
signed  by  his  father's  grandmother,  Eve  Adamson. 
Upon  this  was  written  a  request  to  her  survivors  to 
seek  out  some  opportunity  of  restoring  to  the  de 
scendants  of  "  Captain  Laurence  Hope  of  Warriner 
Manor"  a  certain  sum  of  money  given  to  her  by 
Hope's  parents  and  later  invested  by  her  husband 
in  certain  city  lots,  which  she  described. 

"  The  whole  thing  was  so  informal  and  impalpable, 
so  evidently  a  rough  draft  only  of  expression  of  an 
idea  she  meant  to  elaborate,  that  I  had  great  trouble 
in  following  it  up.  I  got  my  father's  leave  to  do 
with  it  what  I  like,  and  for  some  weeks  the  investi- 


216  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

gation  has  been  pushed  hard  by  my  lawyers.  I 
should  tell  you  there  is  no  legal  claim  upon  my 
father  in  the  matter,  and  that  if  it  were  brought  to 
your  father's  notice  he  would  probably  pooh-pooh  me 
for  an  impertinent  fellow.  But  I  have  traced  the 
thing  to  this  conclusion :  the  city  lots  in  question, 
over  on  the  East  Side,  adjoining  what  was  once  a 
farm  owned  by  Luke  Watson,  our  ancestor,  are  still 
in  our  possession. 

"  They  do  not  amount  to  a  king's  ransom  in  value, 
but  the  sale  of  them  would  bring  in  a  sum  that  might 
help  out  Master  Laurie  in  his  future  housekeeping, — 
you  see,  I  am  counting  on  our  safe  return,— and  so 
my  father  has  promised  to  have  them  transferred  to 
Laurie's  name.  I  want  you  to  promise  me  that  you 
won't  speak  of  this  to  any  living  soul  till  time  shall 
straighten  out  the  snarl  of  the  war.  I  can't  tell  you 
what  a  pleasure  it 's  been  for  me  to  do  it." 

"  It  's  like  a  fairy-tale !  "  cried  she ;  "  and  Laurie 
knows  nothing  of  it  ? " 

"Nothing!" 

"  It  is  much  too  much  for  you  to  do  for  him." 

"  Remember,  '  betwixt  mine  and  thine/  Miss  Hope. 
That  idea  of  the  old  tie  between  our  families  coming 
up  again,  and  being  strengthened,  even  in  this  small 
way,  appeals  to  me  tremendously.  Some  day,  if 
you  '11  let  me,  I  'd  like  to  follow  up  these  clues  by 
reading  the  letters  of  Eve  Adamson  that  are  in  your 
possession." 

"  We  Hopes  can  never  do  enough  to  show  our  grati 
tude  to  you  Adamsons,  if  you  carry  out  this  wonderful 
new  plan.  You  have  taken  away  my  breath.  That 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  217 

sweet  old  Madam  Eve  seems  to  be  our  good  genius, 
and  I  can't  tell  whether  it  is  she  or  you  I  must  thank 
for  Laurie's  sake." 

She  held  out  her  hand  with  a  charming  gesture  of 
good  will. 

"  Thank  her,  then,  if  you  must !  "  he  exclaimed, 
lifting  her  hand  to  kiss  it.  "  But  don't  altogether  for 
get  her  descendant.  I  'm  staying  an  unconscionable 
time,  Miss  Hope.  But  when  I  think  that  it 's  my  very 
last  chance  of  a  talk  with  you—" 

"  Oh !  but  you  had  to  wait  for  Bessie's  letter,"  she 
exclaimed,  blushing. 

Lucy  could  hardly  believe  in  the  transformation  of 
his  face  and  manner.  Something  of  this  he  had 
shown  in  their  first  meetings,  and  the  memory  thus 
evoked  brought  with  it  the  inevitable  one  of  Jack. 
The  answering  glow  in  her  own  face  and  manner  was 
chilled,  and  a  sigh  escaped  her  lips. 

Rex  sprang  upon  his  feet,  clinking  his  spurs,  stand 
ing  erect  and  self-conscious,  his  own  emotion  checked, 
his  hour  of  dalliance  over.  A  carpet-knight  was  he 
no  longer,  but  a  soldier  on  the  way  to  the  front- 
Then  Mrs.  Warriner  came  in,  with  Emily,  who  said 
small  and  civil  things  to  him  about  the  coming  cam 
paign,  the  hardships  of  the  camp  and  march,  etc. ; 
and  at  last  Bessie  appeared,  fetching  her  long  letter 
to  Laurie — after  which  he  had  no  recourse  but  to 
take  his  leave. 

Then  Bessie  led  Lucy  back  into  her  little  sanctum. 
By  a  common  impulse  the  two  fell  into  each  other's 
arms  and  relieved  their  surcharged  feelings  by  what 
girls  call  a  "  good  long  cry."  Bessie  stopped  crying 


218  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

first.  The  idea  of  Laurie  tramping  up  and  down  on 
his  beat  in  the  Jersey  City  stock-yards,  thinking  about 
her,  was  a  beacon  in  her  darkness. 

Mrs.  Warriner,  of  all  the  friends  who  had  shared 
in  the  emotions  of  the  little  episode  on  Brooklyn 
Bridge,  remained  longest  keeping  vigil  that  Sunday 
night.  The  true  and  brave  son  she  had  gained  was 
nothing  by  comparison  with  the  dear  sinner  she  had 
lost.  Wherever  Jack  might  be,  whether  couched  on 
the  ground  under  the  stars  shining  upon  a  Southern 
camp,  or  afloat  in  the  bowels  of  a  big  battle-ship, 
there  was  her  faithful  heart.  The  girl  he  had 
loved  and  ill  treated  might  learn  to  forget  him  and 
choose  another  in  his  place;  the  sisters  who  had 
cherished  and  shielded  him  might  be  weaned  in  time 
from  his  memory;  but  the  mother,  never  on  God's 
earth ! 

WHILE  Laurie  Hope  and  his  other  brothers  in  arms 
were  still  in  a  home  camp,  eating  their  hearts  out 
with  the  desire  for  action,  Rex  Adamson,  appointed 
to  the  modest  position  of  second  lieutenant  in  the 
Regular  Army,  had  been  transferred  to  an  infantry 
regiment  ordered  to  Santiago. 

It  was  not  his  luck  to  be  in  the  fight  at  Las 
Guasimas  on  the  24th  of  June,  but  he  heard  from 
a  dozen  sources  of  the  distinguished  valor  shown 
that  day  by  dismounted  Rough  Rider  Jack  Warriner, 
who  had  gone  through  it  with  the  dash  and  light 
spirit  he  would  have  put  into  playing  foot-ball  at 
college  or  polo  at  Newport— barely  escaping  death 
once  or  twice,  and  emerging  from  many  perils  to 


IN  NEW  YOKE  OF  TO-DAY  219 

receive  promotion  from  his  leader,  together  with  the 
brief  speech  of  approval  that  Roosevelt's  men  craved 
as  English  soldiers  covet  a  V.  C. 

Rex  had  met  Jack  once,  and  exchanged  a  hand 
shake  with  him  afterward;  but  the  toil  of  getting 
files  through  that  underbrush  from  Siboney  to  San 
tiago,  in  heat  like  the  blast  of  a  fiery  furnace,  made 
men  forget  everything  but  what  they  saw  on  either 
side  of  them,  and  what  they  hoped  to  do  ahead. 

IN  the  forenoon  of  July  1  two  badly  wounded  men 
were  panting,  gasping,  one  stretched  half  across  the 
body  of  the  other,  on  the  slope  of  San  Juan  Hill,  that 
had  just  been  carried  by  the  American  line.  It  was 
an  officer  of  infantry  who  lay  underneath;  the  one 
pinning  him  down  wore  the  garb  of  the  Rough  Riders. 
Corporal  Jack  Warriner  had  seen  his  friend,  Lieu 
tenant  Adamson,  fall,  and  found  him  shot  through 
the  shoulder,  bleeding  and  helpless.  While  bending 
over,  trying  to  give  him  the  little  water  he  had,  Jack 
was  himself  hit  by  a  bullet  across  the  back,  that 
struck  the  spine.  The  high,  harsh  grass  wherein 
they  lay  closed  around  them,  and  no  relief  had  yet 
come  their  way.  To  torturing  thirst  under  the  glare 
of  a  merciless  sun  was  added  the  ever-increasing 
distress  of  their  enforced  posture.  They  had  spoken 
to  each  other,  and  were  wondering  when  the  thing 
would  end.  When  Jack  found  that  Rex's  voice  was 
giving  out  and  his  breath  failing  under  the  weight, 
he  envied  him  his  prospect  of  dying  first,  but  deter 
mined,  nevertheless,  to  make  one  final  effort  to  relieve 
the  situation. 


220  THE  CIECLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

"If  I  could  move— I  think— you  'd  have  a  better 
show,"  he  said,  "and  I  'm— going— to— try !  " 

"  No,  no !  For  God's  sake,  don't !  It  's  only- 
holding  out— a  little  bit  longer— for  the  two  of  us. 
It  must  end  soon." 

"  If  there  's  a  chance  for  either,  you  ought  to  get 
it ;  so  I  'm  going  to  try,"  repeated  Jack,  gathering  his 
resolution. 

"  Jack !  —dear  old  Jack— don't !     I—" 

"  If  you  see  her—"  began  Jack,  but  stopped.  He 
knew  that  he  must  save  all  his  strength  for  the  physi 
cal  struggle  of  moving  his  shattered  and  numbed 
body.  Even  the  resolve  to  do  this  had  brought  out 
a  thick  sweat  upon  his  forehead.  Then  he  tried, 
with  the  one  arm  of  which  he  had  some  control,  to 
lift  himself,  and,  with  a  groan  of  anguish,  failed. 
But  he  succeeded  in  giving  a  trifle  of  relief  to  Rex. 

"  No  more,  Jack.  That 's  all  right.  I  tell  you,  it 's 
all  right,"  Rex  said. 

"Yes— it  is  all  right  now,"  he  heard  Jack  whisper; 
and  then  there  was  another  wrench,  and  by  a  supreme 
effort  the  thing  desired  was  accomplished.  The  body 
of  the  Rough  Rider  rolled  off  his  friend,  and  Jack 
lay  dead  beside  him. 

By  the  time  Rex  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  surgeons 
he  was  too  far  gone  to  know  anything  of  what  was 
passing. 

But  in  the  second  stage  of  a  long  ensuing  illness, 
in  a  rude  little  military  hospital  in  the  hills  near 
Santiago,  he  found  his  father  at  his  side.  He  was 
fairly  convalescent  before  they  ventured  to  tell  him 
that  Jack  was  at  rest  under  a  soldier's  monument— a 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  221 

couple  of  sticks  in  the  form  of  a  cross — pending  an 
opportunity  to  send  his  body  home;  and  that  poor 
Euphrosyne,  after  a  career  of  self-devotion  to  the 
fever  patients  in  the  hospital  where  she  had  been 
detailed  as  nurse,  had  herself  succumbed  to  the  yel 
low  scourge,  more  fatal  than  Mauser  bullets,  and 
was  also  buried  in  Cuban  soil. 

ONE  beautiful  soft  day  of  autumn,  when  the  High 
lands  of  the  Hudson  were  garlanded  in  many-colored 
leaves,  a  handful  of  friends  gathered  around  the 
newly  opened  vault  in  the  Manor  graveyard  where 
Jack's  forebears  had  for  several  generations  been 
entombed,  to  commit  to  their  final  resting-place  the 
last  of  the  male  Warriners  and  his  heroic  sister. 

The  two  coffins  were  covered  with  one  flag,  and 
upon  Jack's  were  placed  his  old  trooper's  hat  and 
gauntlets,  while  Euphrosyne  slept  under  a  mass  of 
white  roses.  The  short  military  service  was  soon 
concluded.  The  echo  of  the  volley  fired  after  the 
coffins  were  carried  in  had  been  taken  up  and  re 
peated  gloriously  by  the  hills  round  about ;  and  then 
a  bugler  sounded  taps. 

Rex  Adamson,  gaunt  as  to  person,  hardly  filling 
his  uniform,  his  face  white  and  lined  with  grief,  gave 
his  arm  to  Mrs.  Warriner ;  the  sisters,  Job  Adamson, 
Mrs.  Arrowtip,  and  the  Lucien  Hopes  gathered  in  the 
background.  Her  parents  had  asked  Lucy  not  to  be 
present,  and  Laurie  was  away  in  a  distant  camp,  hav 
ing  not  yet  resigned  from  the  Volunteer  Army,  in 
which  he  had  received  a  commission  as  captain  in  a 
staff  department  before  the  occupation  of  Porto  Rico. 


222  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTURY 

FOE  months  after  this  pathetic  reunion  of  Hopes 
and  Warriners  and  Adamsons  at  the  Manor  vault 
none  of  them  visited  the  spot.  Then  it  began  to  be 
noised  about  that  the  old  place  had  been  purchased 
from  the  Warriners,  and  people  went  so  far  as  to  sur 
mise  that  the  new  proprietor  could  be  no  other  than 
John  Jeremiah  Doyle,  a  millionaire  stocking  manu 
facturer  ambitious  of  intrenching  himself  among  the 
old  families  of  New  York,  who  had  recently  become 
engaged  to  Miss  Emily  Warriner. 

Authorities  were  even  found  competent  to  describe 
the  sumptuous  mansion  of  white  marble  that  would 
soon  be  built  to  replace  the  old  Manor-house.  Then 
public  interest  was  claimed  by  the  announcement  of 
Miss  Bessie  Warriner's  engagement  to  Captain  Lau 
rence  Hope,  now  returned  to  civil  life  and— some 
what  reluctantly — resuming  his  former  practice  of 
the  law. 

The  official  declaration  of  Mr.  Doyle's  agents  that 
he  had  not  purchased  the  Warriner  estate,  but  would 
build  at  Newport,  put  an  end  to  speculation  on  this 
point,  and  people  declared  that  it  was  all  a  mistake, 
and  the  Manor  had  not  been  sold  at  all. 

Laurence  Hope's  future  bride  could  have  told  a  dif 
ferent  story.  The  Manor  had  been  sold,  but  the  pur 
chaser  was  old  Job  Adamson,  and  he  had  bought  it 
as  a  wedding-present  for  Jack  Warriner's  youngest 
sister.  When  Mrs.  Warriner  found  out  who  had  be 
come  the  owner  of  her  husband's  ancestral  acres,  and 
for  what  purpose,  she  went  to  call  upon  Mr.  Adam- 
son  in  his  home,  and  protested  against  his  generosity. 

"  I  believe  you  remember,  ma'am,"  he  said  in  an- 


IN  NEW  YOEK  OF  TO-DAY  223 

swer,  "  that  your  son  gave  his  life  in  the  effort  to  save 
his  friend,  who  is  my  son.  And,  if  it  wa'n't  for  that, 
I  'd  consider  that  every  man  who  charged  up  that 
slope  at  San  Juan  had  earned  the  best  we  stay-at- 
homes  could  give  him.  I  mean  to  put  the  place  in 
proper  repair  before  the  young  folks  get  into  it ;  and 
it  '11  be  likely  some  time  before  they  '11  calc'late  to 
live  there,  summers.  But  it  's  right  it  should  be 
owned  by  a  Hope,  if  not  a  Warriner  — " 

"  That  last  can  never  be ! "  cried  the  forlorn  mo 
ther,  bursting  into  tears.  "  There  '11  be  no  more 
Warriners ! " 

"  You  were  the  mother  of  a  hero,  ma'am ;  let  that 
comfort  you,"  said  old  Job,  solemnly.  "  And  you  may 
just  make  yourself  easy  about  any  little  thing  I  do 
for  you  and  the  Hopes.  My  boy,  who,  since  he 's  been 
getting  back  his  strength,  stays  around  the  house  a 
good  bit,  has  traced  out  our  family  story.  And  he 
says  it 's  heredity  that 's  driven  us — we  can't  get  out 
of  it — we  're  just  bound  to  be  friends.  But  there  's 
one  way  you  could  favor  me,  ma'am,  if  you  Ve  a 
mind  to. 

"  I  don't  know  what  ails  Rex,  but  he  mopes  con- 
sid'able.  If  Mis'  Adamson  were  living,  she  'd  likely 
know  what  to  do  with  him.  My  notion  is,  he  's 
wantin'  to  get  to  stay  by  that  little  Lucy  Hope,  and  I 
don't  blame  him.  I  don't  blame  him  worth  a  cent. 
There  ain't  a  girl  I  ever  saw  I  'd  rather  have  for 
him.  But  he  thinks  he  has  n't  got  a  show,  maybe. 
'T  would  be  a  mighty  obligation  to  me  if  you  could  find 
out  what  the  facts  in  the  case  are,  Mis'  Warriner— 
and  let  me  know— seeing  Mis'  Adanison's  not— 


224  THE  CIRCLE  OF  A  CENTUEY 

The  old  man  gulped,  stopped  speaking,  and  got  up 
to  pace  back  and  forth  in  the  great  library,  that, 
like  the  rest  of  his  house,  was  lonely  and  chill  in 
its  magnificence. 

A  light  broke  upon  Letitia  "Warriner's  comprehen 
sion.  She  recalled  what  Bessie  had  told  her  about 
Rex  thinking  Lucy  was  set  apart  and  devoted  to 
Jack's  memory,  and,  jealous  mother  though  she  was, 
she  could  not  suffer  that. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Adamson,  I  think  I  can  help.  "Will  you 
let  me  speak  to  your  son— will  he  think  it  a  great 
impertinence  if  I—  ?  " 

"  I  think  not,  ma'am,"  interrupted  old  Job,  eagerly. 
"  I  don't  know  for  certain,  but  I  believe  you  'd  be 
welcome  as  flowers  in  May." 

MRS.  WARRINER  had  her  talk  with  Rex,  and  that 
selfsame  afternoon,  when  Lucy  was  sitting  by  a  little 
fire  in  the  middle  drawing-room  of  her  home,  Rex 
Adamson  was  announced.  She  trembled  a  good  deal, 
for  during  the  morning  Mrs.  Arrowtip  had  been  with 
her. 

The  eloquence  of  that  animated  lady  had  almost 
persuaded  Lucy  that  she  was  pushing  her  reticence 
with  Rex  "  absurdly  far."  Mrs.  Arrowtip  had  pre 
viously  told  Rex  the  same  thing  with  regard  to  his 
attitude  of  keeping  away  from  Lucy.  But  then,  Mrs. 
Arrowtip  was  not  Jack  Warriner's  mother  and  could 
not  speak  at  first  hand  upon  the  point  of  how  much 
or  how  little  Lucy  owed  to  Jack's  memory.  Nor  could 
she  convince  Rex,  as  Mrs.  Warriner  did,  that  Lucy's 


IN  NEW  YORK  OF  TO-DAY  225 

girlish  fancy  for  Jack  had  never  had  proper  food  to 
feed  on,  and  so  had  withered  in  the  bud. 

"  Must  I  answer  ? "  asked  Lucy,  at  the  end  of  a  long 
argument  between  the  two. 

"  I  really  think  so,"  said  Rex,  looking  alternately 
at  her  and  at  the  "Lady  of  the  Duel"  on  the  wall, 
wondering,  as  he  did  so,  if  ever  man  had  such  an  en 
chanting  pair  to  stir  his  blood  and  set  his  pulses 
racing  and  keep  him  in  cruel  uncertainty  the  while. 

"Well,  then,  if  it 's  only  to  fulfil  the  behest  of  an 
cestry — don't  you  remember  what  we  agreed  on  at 
Camp  Black?" 

"  '  Betwixt  mine  and  thine,' "  repeated  Rex,  dream 
ily.  "  How  strangely  things  are  coming  to  us  out 
of  the  past !  I  'm  afraid  to  believe  what  I  want  to. 
You  mean  that  you—  ? " 

THEN  the  joy  and  glory  of  the  present  broke  over 
him,  and  he  cared  not  for  past  or  future,  for  anything, 
but  that  he  had  found  the  clue  to  life  which  had  so 
long  eluded  him. 


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